


Call me that again

by theoryofeverything



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Badass Lexa, Clarke is a beautiful chaotic human being, Doctor Clarke, F/F, Future chapters might include mentions of domestic abuse, Lexa has a heart deep down I promise, Modern AU, Past Costia/Lexa (The 100), Past Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin, Rating May Change, Raven is being Raven, okay so maybe not slow at all haha, slow burn but not painfully slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 105,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22759759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoryofeverything/pseuds/theoryofeverything
Summary: "Clarke lost all perception of reality when those green eyes seemed to pierce her soul. They held such intensity and depth even in the dark, and Clarke suddenly realized why she had picked out that particular dress yesterday. Not because it was ‘festive’, but because it matched the exact color of Lexa’s eyes."Lexa runs a successful security company and her newest client is politician Marcus Kane. She is beauty, poise and grace in its purest form, but what will happen when a blue eyed intern sweeps in and makes her question everything she believes in? Will Clarke's sun be able to melt the ice in Lexa's soul? And can Lexa save Clarke from her past?
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 135
Kudos: 449





	1. Prologue

Hullo!

So, I've decided to give this Clexa-thing a go and I honestly don't know what I'm doing. But bear with me and hopefully it won't turn out a total disaster.

A few disclaimers:  
\- I'm not a doctor. My sister is though, and writing this I kinda wish I would have paid more attention to her rants during her time as an intern. There will be medical inaccuracies!  
\- I'm not a badass bodyguard either. Same as above applies.

Also, as always, I don't own The 100 (or it would've been a compleeeetely different story...).

Now, pop your feet up and tag along for the ride!

\-------- 

She hated it. It was just one of those things that were undoubtedly true and solid.

Lexa Woods _really_ hated the rain.

As she maneuvered her car through the busy streets of Washington DC, windshield wipers in full effect, she already dreaded the short walk from the garage to her office. Today was not a good day to look like a soaked raccoon, she silently mulled. She had an important meeting with a potential new customer. It could mean a lot of money and she seriously didn’t want to screw this one up. Not that a little rain could do that by itself, but it _could_ sulk her mood and a sulking Lexa was not a good thing.

Deciding to snap out of it she parked her car in the three story garage that lay a street behind her office and pulled out her handbag and an umbrella from the backseat. Taking a quick glance at her reflection in the toned window of the car, she straightened out a few imaginary wrinkles on her trench coat for the thirtieth time that morning before walking with resolute steps towards an effective day. She smiled tentatively to herself, the echoing clicks from her heels slowly reassured her that today was going to be yet another fulfilling day in the life, despite the rain.

Entering the lobby of the great, glass-walled building she casually made her way to the elevators, not bothering to take notice of the crowd that hurriedly moved around her. Everyone in this entire building was always busy, which was probably what was bound to happen when you put a bunch of chronical overachievers under the same roof, Lexa thought to herself.

Acquiring the downtown office on the fourteenth floor had been the turning point in Lexa’s life. She went from being ‘someone’ to ‘the one’ in what seemed like no time at all, but she sure had worked hard for it. Thinking back at her life, she frowned at her early years in the foster system. She pretty much frowned upon her entire youth that had been mostly spent on the street in suspicious neighbourhoods. That was usually way better than whatever ‘home’ that had been hers at the time.

The only constant had been the military. Lexa had enlisted the second she was able to, just to get out of that terrible system, and had found herself the home she had always craved. She had always been tough, always a warrior in spirit, so no one was surprised when she shone through her training as a marine recruit. She had been content with her life, until that one day in April, almost seven years ago.

Shaking her head to get rid of the old memories, she exited the elevator and walked toward the doors that had “ _Forrester & Woods” _printed on them in big, golden letters. Seeing that door always made her puff up her chest a little. If someone told her ten years ago that she would have a door with her name on it that led into a fancy office in a fancy building with multiple rooms and desks and coffee machines and employees – she would’ve laughed them in their face. Or at least scoffed, she was Sergeant Lexa Woods after all, she didn’t really laugh.

But here she was, walking through the glass door as she did every day, and was greeted by the sight of her very own firm looking back at her. When she had gotten out of the marine corps, she had been lost. She’d had no idea what her place was until her old friend and former superior Anya called her and offered her a job. Anya had been in the military working with intel for years so when she finally decided that she was ready to move on she had started a security company.

The idea was to take on high profile clients and provide them with security and legal protection, and so far, the idea seemed to be working. Lexa had started out more or less as a good-looking bodyguard but over the years Anya had given her more and more influence. It got to the point that when Anya was re-recruited to do some classified work for the government, Lexa had been the one to take over the reins.

Three years later she had upgraded Anya’s small company to a full scale enterprise, taking on some of the most valuable customers in the city (and a couple from other cities as well) and charging thereafter. More money meant that she could hire more people, and the money she could cash in herself had been reinvested in the company so that she now co-owned it along with Anya, hence changing the name from ‘ _Forrester & Associates’ _to _‘Forrester & Woods’. _

“Lexa! What’s up? I’ve got some things that I’d like to talk to you about regarding the Kent case,” a loud and deep voice greeted her as she walked toward her office.  
“Is it urgent? I’ve got a few things I need to prepare before my 10am, so if it can wait until after that’d be golden,” she replied, walking through her door with the man in tow.

She hung up her coat on the wall before turning around and looking at Nyko with an apologetic smile. Nyko, or Nicholas as his name really was, was one of her most loyal employees. He was dark haired with a nice looking face and a big beard, matching his overall hipster slash lumberjack style. Today he wore grey jeans and a red and black flannel with a pair of black Timberland boots. The sleeves were rolled up high enough to reveal the many tattoos on his arms. Cosy, Lexa snickered to herself before he reassured her that it could wait and walked out of her office again.

Preparing all the material she would need took her about an hour and when she glanced at her watch she saw that it was almost 9.40am. She had made an unusually late entrance today. Neatly placing the stack of papers in a folder she walked out of her office and continued through the light and spacious hallway into another one, slightly smaller than her own. Behind a desk sat a dark-skinned woman with a stern look on her face.

“Heya, Indra,” Lexa said, knocking on the open door to draw attention to herself. “Are you all set?” she asked, knowing full well that Indra was always prepared. She just liked to check up on things, it felt like her duty. Indra just nodded, typing furiously at her computer for a few seconds before rising to her feet and grabbing a folder of her own, laying already prepared on her desk. With a quick look around, as if to see if she had forgotten anything, she walked straight past Lexa and toward the meeting room.

Lexa just chuckled, she had known Indra since she started at Forrester and associates, and she knew that Indra was in fact a caring and sweet individual. It had taken her almost a year to realise it though, since she rarely spoke and even less often acknowledged your existence. Lexa had thought that it would change when she practically became Indra’s boss, but she had pretty soon come the conclusion that everything was to remain the same. Indra hadn’t changed a bit over the last seven years, but she was still the rock and foundation of the company and Lexa could always rely on her giving a 110%. That made up for the evident lack of social skills.

Following in Indra’s footsteps Lexa soon made her way into the meeting room. It was actually one of two in the office, but this one was for meeting clients and the other one for internal. Three of the four walls were made of glass, the other one was painted white, and the room had a view of the busy street outside. In the middle stood a big, long table made of white steel. The carpet on the floor was a light beige, and the only colour came from the seats of the chairs that were a lush green. A few plants stood in a corner, and a big flat screen TV hung on the one wall that wasn’t made of glass.

Lexa sat down at the head of table, with Indra on her right. She placed the folder on the table in front of her and lazily gazed over some of the papers one last time. She knew their content by heart already, but a last look could never hurt.

A soft knock on the glass wall caught her attention. Through it she could see Lincoln Hunt, one of her colleagues. He was a bulky but handsome man in his early thirties, just a few years Lexa’s senior. He was quiet but witty and Lexa had gotten really close to him over the years. He had a law degree and did mostly paperwork but had a quick mind and was more than capable with a gun. Once in a while Lexa made sure to put him out in the field since she knew how much he enjoyed it. Additionally, a sharp jawline, dark olive skin and well-defined muscles made him an asset when it came to handling certain clients who never seemed to be able to take their eyes of him for too long.

She raised a questioning eyebrow at him, and he mouthed a ‘ _they’re here_ ’ back at her. Nodding at him she motioned back for Lincoln to bring them in. He turned on his heels and about a minute later he returned, this time with three men in tow. Opening the door to the meeting room one of them, the one in charge, looked between the two women with an earnest curiosity in his eyes. _At least he_ _seems nice enough_ , Lexa thought.

“That sounds fantastic Mr. Kane. Now, may I introduce you to Indra Bates and Lexa Woods, they will take it from now on,” Lincoln gave a curt nod before closing the door behind him.

Lexa got herself a look of the man as she rose to her feet and strode over to a spot next to Indra. He was a tall man, with a tan complexion and thick, dark hair. If she hadn’t been Lexa, she figured she would have wanted to run her fingers through it. He wore a dark grey suit that looked exactly the way one would expect from a politician trying to come off as ‘a safe bet for a safe future’, or whatever was one of those flyers she had seen circling around.

Smiling a very politician-like smile he walked up to Indra and extended his hand. As it dawned on Lexa what he was about to do, she quietly rolled her eyes.

“Miss Woods, such a pleasure to meet you!”

It happened more often than Lexa would like to admit. No one believed that she was actually _the_ Lexa Woods. She knew it was probably because of the fact that she was more than ten years younger than Indra (and most people in this position), but she would’ve hoped that the word would have spread by now. Indra just looked at his extended hand and shot him an unappreciative glance.

“Actually,” she said stepping forward, “I am Lexa Woods. This is my colleague and trusted co-driver, Indra Bates,” she said with faked happiness. Since Indra apparently was in one of her foul moods today, someone (Lexa) would have to sell them in on her own. Opening his mouth in embarrassment Lexa thought that he looked rather like a fish, which made her chuckle inwardly. He made his sincerest apologies which she gracefully accepted before bidding him a seat.

They started off as usual, asking him why he was there and what he expected from them. He was, as Lexa already knew, a former employee at the white house. There he had worked as a counsellor and as a member of several committees, mostly regarding international relations. It was also there that he had met his wife. A well-known surgeon who owned one of Washington’s finer practices, it was rumoured that she was, or at least had been, the president’s physician. Marcus was now running for , and as far as Lexa had heard he was doing pretty good.

Unfortunately, running for mayor also meant that some people would become hell bent on trying to hurt you, especially when you approached the subjects that Kane had made his ranking topics. That included stuff like immigration, abortion, LGBTQ+ and the middle east. Therefore he (or more likely someone in his staff) had come to the conclusion that he needed to hire a private security company in addition to the protection he already got from the state. It was a rather common set up – the great country of America provided physical protection and companies like Lexa’s did the most of the rest. That usually boiled down to cybersecurity and legal work, the latter being massive enough on its own.

The meeting went on as well as anyone would expect with a brooding Indra in the room, and before lunch a contract was printed out to be considered by Kane and his lawyers. Getting to her feet she walked him to the front door, making small talk as they went. After picking up his coat he started out the door before turning around again.  
  
“Thank you for everything Ms. Woods, and once again my deepest apologies for my earlier assumption,” he smiled before looking down at his watch. Lexa felt as he was searching for the words to continue, so she just stood by, waiting.

“My wife will defiantly tell me off if she hears about it. Our daughter, well her daughter, is just like you. Though a couple years younger she’s also a lot more than what meets the eye,” he smiled, more to himself than anyone else. Lexa frowned at the fact that he talked like he knew her, they had only met a few hours ago. But he was right about one thing: she was much more than what met the eye. The description almost made her puff up her chest a little.

“Well, let’s pray your wife doesn’t find out about it then. Have a safe trip now, Mr Kane,” she said with feigned politeness.  
“Please, call me Marcus,” he smiled before turning on his heel and heading toward the elevator. Lexa spent no time watching after him though, instead she made her way back behind her desk and buried herself in work for the rest of the day.

xxx

Stripping out of her scrubs she leaned her forehead against the lockers. Today had been a total jerk. She knew that life as intern wasn’t supposed to be easy, but nothing and no one (aka her mother) had ever prepared her for this. She reckoned she was going on her thirtieth-something hour without proper sleep, and she desperately needed a shower.

Sighing as she put on a pair of black skinny jeans and a V-neck t-shirt she threw her used scrubs in the laundry shoot before throwing on her black and blue leather jacket and making it out of the locker room door. Passing through the sterile hallways of the surgical wing, she ventured toward the elevators. She was going home to get herself some well deserved sleep before tackling another long shift at the ER tomorrow. Arriving in the lobby she slid her phone out of her pocket to catch up on whatever she had missed during the day. Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to have happened, so after replying to a couple of texts and ignoring some she sent a quick message to her best friends and continued toward the bus that took her from the hospital to the transfer station.

 _Dr. Clarkey, 19:11  
_ _Y’all good? xx_

 _Gyromaniac, 19:12  
_ _All is well over here, save any lives today? xo_

 _Judge-O, 19:12  
_ _I’ve drafted three prenups, which can potentially save someone’s life in the future!! But I’m guessing ur asking Clarke lol_

_Dr. Clarkey, 19:23  
_ _Prenups are more interesting than blood and faeces all over my scrubs. Btw, wanna meet up tomorrow night?_

Tomorrow would be Friday, and she had managed to get the Saturday of for once which meant that a night out would be optimal. She hadn’t seen her friends since the week before which always felt a little absurd to her since they had pretty much been inseparable throughout their younger years. All three of them had grown up in the same Spring Valley neighbourhood and their parents had all been good friends. Now Raven was off working for NASA, Octavia was an intern at one of the big law firms while Clarke did her internship at one of the better hospitals in town. They were the golden trio, the epitome of three successful young women born into nice families, ready to make their claim on the world. Yet she had rarely felt this alone before.

Hopping of her bus at the station she began the short walk home. It had started to rain, and her black Chelsea boots made tiny splashing sounds every step she took. October was a dark and dreary month, not only in Washington state but also here in Washington DC, but Clarke didn’t really mind. She enjoyed the serenity of the calm streets. She knew she was privileged enough to live in a pretty closed off neighbourhood, away from the busy downtown streets, and she sure was going to enjoy every second of it. Finally reaching her house she slipped in through the gate and left her soaked umbrella on the porch.

“I’m home!” she called out into an empty hall as she walked through the door. The smell of food let her know that at least one of her parents where home, and since it actually smelled like something edible it seemed that her dad had actually managed to find some spare time in his busy schedule for once. Hanging her coat on the wall she quickly made her way into the kitchen and snuck up behind him to give him a quick hug before she got herself a glass of water.

“It smells amazing, dad,” she smiled at him, leaning back on the counter.

She would never get tired of the way his face lit up every time she called him that. It had taken her a while to get there, but for the last years it had felt more natural than Markus. He was the one who had raised her after all. He had been there for her for her first crush, first kiss, first heartbreak. When she had graduated high school as a valedictorian, much thanks to him, he had been so happy that he had cried more than her mother. From that day forward he had been dad and nothing else. For him it was different, he would never take it for granted. She knew that he still hesitated to call her his daughter in public. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he never believed himself to be worthy. She hoped she would make him understand, someday, how much he meant to her. But for now she would settle for the smile.

“Thanks, Clarkey. It’s your moms favourite, beef stew. She’ll be home in a minute,” he said.  
“Okay. Can I help you with anything?”  
“No, it’s all good, honey. How was your day?”  
“Tedious. Nothing went wrong but it sure went slowly. It’s more tiring than I ever could have anticipated,” she said with a nervous smile.

He looked at her with comforting dark eyes and gave her a hug with his free arm.

“I know kiddo. But you’re going to become a great surgeon someday. The world needs you to push through”.

She buried her face in his neck for a moment as he squeezed her tight.

“Thanks dad, I will. How was your day?”  
“Oh, nothing special happened. I went to that meeting with the security firm that I talked to you about. I think they’re going to do a really good job but it might mean some changes for you and your mom. I thought that we could talk about it over dinner?”  
“Yeah, sure. If it helps you get to congress I’m all game” she replied with a smile and a jab to his shoulder.

“It will help me sleep better at night, and it will also help me not to lose my votes when you send all those texts to your friends about what a horrible person I am and why they should never ever vote for me by making them untraceable,” he winked at her.  
“Of course dad, that’s all I ever do. I mean, who would possibly want an old, dusty history professor in control anyway?” she teased back.  
“I was only ever a substitute! There will be no dinner for you, Clarke Griffin, if you keep this up,” he said, playfully lounging at her and causing her to jump away.

He was right though. Marcus was not a history professor, even though it was one of his deepest interests (hence the substitute position way back in the 80’s). He had been in the military for years until he had been forced to resign due to an injury. After that he had ventured into finance for a couple of years, ‘to make some money’, before he had gotten involved in politics.

At the same time a tall, auburn haired woman entered the kitchen.  
  
“I swear to god, the two of you need to stop fighting in the kitchen. There are knives and hot things in here and I’m done patching people up for one day.”

Clarke chuckled and went over to hug her mom and smiled when Abby walked over to kiss her husband hello. Her parents gave her hope that true love could exist, she only hoped she would find it herself one day. The playful banter continued in the kitchen while Marcus finished up the food. Her mother let out a deep breath as she finally was able to step out of her high heels and asked Clarke about her day, just as she always did, and Marcus sometimes intervened to tell them something that he had philosophized about during the day.

The food, as always when Marcus cooked, tasted delicious. Clarke had always found it a bit silly that they had to eat all the meals in the big dining hall even when they were alone. The table was too long and all the empty chairs made it look like they were waiting for someone. But with the fireplace crackling in the background and a bottle of wine to share it was still more than bearable. It was fairly unusual for them to eat a meal together since Marcus had started his campaign. The fact that Clarke worked a lot of weird hours nowadays and her mother being forced to work overtime more often than not didn’t help the cause either.

“So Abby, I told Clarke earlier about this meeting I went to today with this security firm. I feel like only protecting me isn’t really enough now when things are starting to get a bit rough. My lawyers are working on the contract as we speak but I’ve told them that I would like your lives to stay as normal as possible. I assume that they will have a finished draft pretty soon, so if there’s anything that you feel like you want us to take into consideration just let me know. I’ll let you guys read whatever we draft when we’re done anyways.”

“I think I’ll pass on that, dad. I trust you, but thanks anyways,” Clarke smirked. She felt like a security contract would be a lot of tiny letters on many pages, and she didn’t have time for that.  
“I second my daughter on that, Marcus. But thanks for keeping us posted.“I have one question though. Will I get a bodyguard?” Clarke asked?  
“Not unless you really want to, or do you feel unsafe at work?”

At this both her parents leant forward, slight traces of worry on their faces. Clarke wiped her mouth and put down her cutlery before answering.

“No, I’m good thanks. That would make hooking up in the on call-rooms way more difficult.”

As she left the room she could her Marcus chuckle and her mother groaning with her head in her hands.


	2. Wingman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aight, so the first chapter was more of a prologue but I wanted to post it separately nevertheless. This is where the fun starts! There's even a wee bit of Clexa interaction in the end. There's no reason to rush things, but I also don't see why you always have to consciously stall them either, right?

“Linc, what’s up?”

“All is good, boss. I’m keeping my station, but things are about as exciting as usual over here,” the deep male voice said over the phone.

The clock was closing in on 10pm and Lexa was still hitting it hard in her office. _No rest for the wicked,_ she thought to herself. Lincoln had one of his field jobs tonight, he was monitoring a subject on a Hillwood fundraiser. To him this was as exciting as work ever got and she trusted him to do his job both skilfully and enthusiastically but she made a check-up call on him either way. Her more experienced field workers, like Nyko and Echo, she more than often let work in peace.

“Sounds like you’ve got it all under control. Make sure to do all the paperwork tomorrow morning as soon as you get back in,” she told him.

“Yeah, I’ll get that done. See you tomorrow, Woods!”

The call lasted a whopping 18 seconds. She wasn’t sure what she thought about him hanging up on her but that would be something that would have to be addressed at a different time. She spun the ballpoint pen around her fingers while tapping absentmindedly with a perfectly manicured nail on her desk. Whoever didn’t have to share an office with her would have to count themselves lucky, she made an awful lot of annoying sounds when she tried to focus. It had been almost two weeks since she had drafted the contract for Marcus Kane and his lawyers had been up in her ass since then. That was a good sign, the better they did their job the less her people would have to do themselves, but she honestly couldn’t see how or why some of their comments were relevant.

Today was Tuesday, she would have to go to Toronto tomorrow and spend the night there and she doubted that she would have the energy to work on this up there. Insistent to get this thing signed, sealed and delivered before Friday she was pushing herself to answer all their comments tonight. Indra had offered to do it and she had been tempted to let her, but at the end of the day this was her firm and Mr. Kane was an important client. It felt better to have it on her own desk. But it wasn’t all bad. For a curious soul like Lexa, reading through a file filled with even the most insignificant, small detail of someone’s life was intriguing, no matter how hard you tried for it not to be. Except for the obvious and big things, like the fact that he lived in Spring Valley, drove a Land Rover and enjoyed hunting, she now also knew that his favourite colour was sky blue and that his wife’s favourite dish was beef stew, cooked by her husband.

Pictures of his family stared at her from somewhere in the middle of the file, displayed both on the computer in front of her but also on a printed version on her desk. His wife, Abigail Griffin-Kane, was a tall, skinny woman in her early fifties. She had warm brown hair that hung over her shoulders in luscious (and probably not natural) curls and wore black d-frames that made her look very much like the successful surgeon she was. It said in the file that she was originally from Sacramento, CA, and that in her spare time she liked to run and read.

To Abigail’s right, another face looked at her. This was the face of a girl slightly younger than herself with piercing blue eyes and wavy blonde hair, reaching just past her shoulders. Clarke Griffin was the person’s name, she was listed as 24 years old and was apparently a first year surgical intern at one of the bigger hospitals in the city. This must be the daughter that Marcus had talked about the other day. Something about the way she smirked to the camera combined with an unusual gleam in her eye told Lexa the security agent that this girl would mean trouble.

xxx

_Dr. Clarkey, 20:14_

_Beers, anyone?_

Clarke laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling and mindlessly flipping through her phone. She was bored beyond belief and hadn’t met a single decent person to hold up a conversation with for what seemed like days. Her parents had been working late or out of town almost every day for the past week and both herself and her crew had worked unusually long and weird shifts. She knew that she was due for work in the afternoon tomorrow, but if she had one beer and then drank water she would be totally in the clear. She just hoped that her friends would want to join her.

_Judge-O, 20:16_

_I rly shouldn’t…_

_Dr. Clarkey, 20:16_

_But??_

_Judge-O, 20:17_

_I met this boy…_

Clarke rolled her eyes at her empty room. Octavia was a hopeless romantic, and her meeting a boy wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary. However, if she was willing to drag her ass to a bar to talk about it, Clarke counted that just as good a reason as any.

_Gyromaniac, 20:19_

_Screw u Octavia, I was going to ignore this conversation until the morning but now I feel obliged to show up_

_Dr. Clarkey, 20:20_

_Gee thanks, feel the love_

_Same place as always, see u in 45?_

Not bothering to wait for an answer Clarke slid of her bed and out of her room. Walking down the stairs she caught Marcus walking in through the front door.

“Hey dad, what’s up?” she smiled and walked over to give him a hug.

“Hey kid, it’s all good. Got out earlier from a meeting, figured I could use a night in for a change. But it looks like you’re not going to be here to join me?” he asked, looking at her holding her coat in one hand and a beanie in the other.

“Sorry dad, O’s met a boy,” she shrugged, Marcus knew her two old friends almost as well as she did.

“Oh I see, do you want to take my car? It’s safer than riding the bus in the middle of the night,” he offered.

She thought about it for a moment, she had been looking forward to that beer. But he was right, commuting (and especially the walk from the station) was both a tedious and somewhat unsafe venture for a young woman to carry out on her own. That and the benefit of not having to worry about timetables, even though the departures were so frequent that that would ever be an issue anyways. Shrugging again, she snatched the car keys to Marcus’ Rover from his outstretched hand and gave him a smile as she walked out of the door.

_“Stop me, oh oh stop me, stop me if you think that you’ve heard this one before_

_Nothing has changed, I still love you oh I still love you – only slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love…”_

As she drove she sang along to The Smiths’ songs that were playing in the car. It must have been one of Marcus’ playlists but that particular song was still one of her favourites. For a moment, it almost seemed like the streetlights passing above her made the car’s interior blink like a dancefloor with their warm, yellowish light. It made Clarke’s mind drift away to warmer, happier times and before she knew it she had reached her destination: The Skai Bar down in Georgetown. Struggling a bit to find parking nearby she finally stepped out of her car and slipped her hand in her pocket to lock it before she walked away.

When she entered, no more than five minutes late, she found Octavia already sitting at one of the window-side tables. Dressed in sky high Louboutins and a jet black, high collared dress that ended just above the knee she looked every bit the credible lawyer she was aiming to be. Swirling the margarita in her hand absentmindedly she finally found Clarke and a smile plastered on her face.

“Clarkey! It’s so good to see you! How’s your day been, love?”

Octavia’s bubbly personality was a trademark of hers, but not to be mistaken for softness. The girl was all fun and games until you crossed her, then you would have to face the tornado that was the angry Blake daughter. With luscious brown curls, sharp features and an even sharper intellect Octavia was a force to be reckoned with, and given the fact that she had been negotiating everything from allowance to curfew deal’s since she was old enough to understand the concept her career choice surprised literally no one. Her deadly looks earned her a fair share of attention from both boys and girls, and even though she mostly enjoyed her ridiculously high number of one nighters, she was a dead end true romantic at heart. The only one in their group, if Clarke was being fair.

“Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. Although I actually got called in to the OR this afternoon, so I’ll count that as a win,” Clarke offered with a wink.

“That’s great! You must’ve been the first out of all your inmate-collegues!”

“O, we’re interns, not inmates. You’ve clearly been spending too much time reading about prisons today.”

“I’m not going to fight you there, partner. For a firm that claims to be specializing in corporate law, we sure do a lot of criminal defence.”

Octavia looked like she was about to go on a rant about not have been given the right information when the last third of the group suddenly plopped down on the seat next to her. Raven was always at least ten minutes late, that was more a rule than an exception. ‘ _For one as bright as her, it’s a wonder that she has so much trouble with the clock’_ Abby always said when the girls’ parents used to take turns driving them to school. Clarke could nothing but agree on both counts: Raven did not know how a clock worked but in every other senses of the word she was a born and bred genius. She had been offered to graduate high school whilst they were all in their first year, but had told the woman from MIT that showed up at her doorstep one day that she was in no rush to finish early. In true Raven-fashion she wasn’t about to let her unusually high intelligence get in the way of her fun.

However, she had been convinced to go to Cambridge as soon as she graduated. Truth be told, this is how the whole gang had ended up in Massachusetts for the past years. While Raven enrolled at MIT, Clarke and Octavia had gone to Harvard. That way they could cement their future and make their parents incomparably proud at the same time as they got to spend their time at university together – that is the time that was not spent studying. Raven becoming a mechanical engineer in record time at the same time as she did research paired up with Clarke’s medical training and Octavia cramming the entire law of the United States had proven to be more than enough to make sure that free time was an almost none existing concept, but they had done the best they could out of it.

Moving back to Washington to do her internship had been a tough call, she had gotten used to living on her own, but it had been the right thing to do at the time. Her friends, supportive as ever, had not even thought twice about staying and insisted that DC was better than Massachusetts anyway.

“Hey gurls, are you ready to tear this shit to the ground?” Raven said with a mock New York-accent and a cocky grin as she draped her arm over Octavia’s shoulders in a very masculine fashion. Clarke snickered while Blake just rolled her eyes.

“We are tearing _nothing_ to the ground tonight, Reyes. I have zillions of files to go over tomorrow and Clarke has to save lives. Not all of us are hired because of our brains, some of us actually has to work to earn our living,” Octavia drawled.

“Oh, someone’s grumpy today. Need I remind you that we are all here because of you, feisty pants?” Raven asked back with her hands raised in the air.

“Actually, this was all Clarke’s idea,” Octavia said matter-of-factly.

Clarke feigned offence at this and took a (small, she was still driving after all) sip of Octavia’s margarita as payback.

“I know that. I also know that I would’ve never shown if it had only been Clarke asking. So, technically, I’m still here because of you. No offence, Clarkey,” Raven explained.

“None taken. I’m also hear because of Octavia, and if she’s not about to start talking soon I will finish her drink and go home again, because listening to you two bickering is not what I signed up for twenty years ago.”

Raven laughed at this while Octavia’s glare only grew more unimpressed. Clarke silently wished the best of luck to any lawyer who had to go up against her in court someday and be the subject of her death stare for hours on end.

“Okay, you two losers, I’ll spill the tea. But only if I get my alcohol back!”

Clarke wiggled her eyebrows at her excpectantly before sliding the glass across the table and settling in more comfortable in her chair. These things were bound to take some time after all, they always did.

“Thanks. Okay, so last week I was representing the firm at this gala slash fundraiser at the Hillwood…”

“Oh, that’s nice, I love the Hillwood!” Raven blurted out which caused immediate frowns from both Clarke and Octavia. Clarke made a face because she knew that if Raven was in one of those moods this story would take forever and a half – Octavia because there was nothing she hated more than being interrupted. With a dramatic sigh she apparently decided to move past it this time and move on whilst pretending to ignore Raven completely.

“… when all of a sudden I lay eyes on the _handsomest_ man to ever have walked the earth. I’m not even joking, he was _that_ fine. But as I said I was working so I couldn’t just walk over there and Diana was watching me the entire time…”

Diana Sydney was Octavia’s famous boss. She was one of the senior associates at the firm an apparently had made it her mission to mentor Octavia herself. This was as much a good thing as it was a disturbing one, because even though she was an incredibly skilled lawyer she was also manipulative, competitive and had an unsettling ability to know everything that was going on anywhere.

“… but eventually I got my shot. I saw him walking up to the bar, I excused myself from my post and said I needed something to drink and then I just walked up.”

“You just walked straight up to him like that?” Raven asked with one eyebrow raised and a hint of distrust.

“Yeah, what was I supposed to do? You can’t run if you can’t walk,” Octavia said like it was the most natural thing in the world. Raven just made a face that said _whatever._

“And when I came up to him he was in the middle of ordering so I just told the bartender to give me one of whatever the gentleman was having. He turned around to look at me and I swear to god I could breath for the first time in my life. It was just something about his eyes and his face that made me feel completely safe and vulnerable at the same time. I just _knew._ ”

Octavia’s voice drifted of as she apparently got lost in the memory of this unknown stranger’s eyes and Clarke could see Raven make gagging faces behind her back. Shaking her head at the absurdity and yet the familiarity of the situation, Clarke motioned for Raven to stop before bringing Octavia back into reality.

“So, after you just _knew,_ what happened?” she asked. It seemed unlikely that this would have been the end of the story.

“Oh, yeah, right. Where was I?”

Raven rolled her eyes so dramatically Clarke was actually afraid that they would get stuck.

“Oh right, I just _knew._ And so I knew that I just couldn’t let him go. So I stayed, we talked for a while and then both him and I had to go back to work. It looked like my fairy tale had ended but I just couldn’t get him out of my head. I remembered him saying that it would probably be a long night for him, so when I was about to wrap things up I figured it was worth taking a lap just to see if I could find him again. I looked all over the venue but he was _absolutely_ _nowhere_. And just as I’m about to give up and go and get myself a cab so that I at least could be given the curtesy of weeping in the safety of my own home, I see him. He’s walking around like he’s trying to find something, or _someone_ , and then he sees me. He walks over, tells me that he had been looking everywhere for me and that he wanted to ask for my number. I don’t have to tell you that I gave it to him, after I almost _died_ that is.”

The complete and utter sappiness of the story had made even Raven quit her shenanigans, and Clarke was looking at her friend with one part amusement and one part adoration. Even after all they had been through, Octavia somehow always managed to find the beautiful things in life. Clarke knew that it was a quality that had come in handy on multiple occasions.

“Well, I’m really happy for you O. So what’s his name?” Clarke asked and squeezed the other girl’s hand.

“Lincoln. His name is Lincoln Hunt.”

xxx

“Objection! This is a narrative answer!”

“Really? _That’s_ the card you choose to play?” Lexa spat back. She could not believe her ears. Her answer had been clarifying, not narrative, and there had been an increasing number of objections lately. She knew that this could be seen as a positive sign – her opponent clearly saw how waterproof her argument was and tried to slow her down with formalities – but this case was too important.

“Objection sustained. Lexa, you make valid points, but the fact that you ate Lincoln’s salad does not go away just because you thought it was yours. The prosecution has suggested a deal: replace the salad by lunch and this will all be forgotten or pay a fine.”

Lexa sighed. There were ups and downs to working at a security firm filled with lawyers. One of the downs was certainly the fact that everything and anything that could not be settled by a five-minute conversation would turn into a trial. She wasn’t a lawyer, unlike Indra and Lincoln, but she had been around long enough to be able to hold her ground on her own. Today though, she had been charged with stealing Lincoln’s salad from the lunchroom. His evidence had seemed circumstantial at best and Lexa had been absolutely positive that she had been innocent, so she had entered the challenge and asked Indra to judge herself.

About fifteen minutes in however she had come to the shocking conclusion that the salad that she had eaten as a pre-lunch snack had had pomegranate seeds in it instead of chia seeds. And if she thought about it long and hard enough she was pretty sure that she owned no dark-grey tupperwares. At first, she had tried to pretend like she was still none the wiser, but then Lincoln had brought up a witness to the stand (far end of the conference room). The witness (Nyko) had apparently seen Lexa mindlessly take out a dark grey container from the fridge, remove the lid and walk out of the room. When he had approached the lid with the intention of scoring some extra point and wash it for her, he had seen Lincoln’s name clearly written on it. When Lincoln had entered the kitchen a few minutes later to get his salad, only to find it gone, he had gone directly to Nyko who had immediately crumbled under the pressure and ratted his boss out.

Lexa’s next strategy had been to plead guilty to all charges and instead bargain for a no-sentence by convincing the judge that she had been completely oblivious to what she had done up until just a few minutes ago. Her main argument was that she had been bringing a salad to work every day for years. Lincoln, on the other hand, had never done it before. Lexa hadn’t bothered to look at the lid not because she intended to cause any harm but because she was a creature of habit. She had then tried to make nice by offering Lincoln her salad instead, but he claimed that he was allergic to chia seeds (she called definite bullshit, which would mean that he was lying under oath, but whatever).

So here she was. The senior associate of Forrester & Woods, being prosecuted by her own employees. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes she did her best to muster up all her pride and professionalism before looking Lincoln straight in the eye. Indra, who probably decided her job was done, scoffed and walked away.

“Okay Lincoln, we both know that I’d rather kill you than walk out on these filthy streets voluntarily to buy you a few sorry leaves,” she said, raising her eyebrow. Lincoln laughed and looked at his feet for a second before meeting her gaze.

“Aye commander, I do. Shall I assume we’re entering negotiations then?”

“Give me an opening.”

“100$.”

Lexa couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity.

“You’re _insane_. I’ll give you five and that’s generous.”

“Ten, pomegranate is expensive.”

“Five is my final offer. Take it or leave it, Linc.”

“Five plus two for the extra emotional damage.”

Lexa rolled her eyes before turning on her heels towards her office. She figured she would take his offer and just add it to the payroll. The salad had been just past tiny and not worth anything near seven dollars, but she appreciated his dedication. However, when she looked over her shoulder and caught him with a smug, victorious grin on his face she changed her mind immediately.

“How about this: I’ll give you 100$ for the salad, but considering you’ve taken up my time for about twenty minutes now and I charge 1000$ an hour that will leave you owing me about 230$. However, I’m feeling generous today - let’s just call it even,” she said with a wink before walking into her office and closing the door behind her.

Lexa spent the rest of her day finishing up the Kane-case. The final edition of the contract had been drafted and sent to his lawyers as soon as she came in to work this morning, and they would come in tomorrow to make the final adjustments and hopefully to sign it. It was a deal that would mean a lot of money for the agency, but also a good rep. The latter was extra important to Lexa. Politicians were probably the most lucrative market for a company like hers, and Marcus Kane would be her first real political hotshot. If they managed to make him happy he could spread the world to several potential new clients, something that would be crucial to them growing even more as a business.

She knew she had accomplished great things, there were even those who said that she should probably settle and slow down, but she also knew that she was sitting on so much potential. She wasn’t ready to stop here, she wanted to conquer the world (or at least the east coast) before she would even consider slowing down. Spinning her pen around her fingers for a few seconds as she came back down to earth, she took a deep breath before returning to paperwork.

When she finally had scribbled down the last comment on the Dakins-case the clock on her wrist showed past 9pm. Running her fingers through her hair she decided that she might as well call it a night. Slipping into her red-bottomed heels that she had slipped out of a few hours ago she gathered her things and hoisted up her handbag on her shoulder before she walked out of her office. Even though she was hardly the last one left in the huge building even at this hour she managed to find an empty elevator that took her the fourteen floors down to the foyer. She was so lost in her thoughts (and her phone) that she almost crashed into a massive figure standing completely still in the middle of the room. Frowning, she was about to apologize and walk around the immovable object when she looked up and saw who it was.

“God dammit Linc, you ought to know better than to just stand around in my way,” she drawled at him. She was prepared for a witty retort when he turned around to face her, but was instead met with a dreamy look and an almost too whitening smile.

“Okay, ew. What’s got your panties in a bunch? You never smile like that, especially after losing a trial,” she said, part faking part feeling disgust.

“I didn’t lose…” he started, grin momentarily replaced with confusion.

“Hush now. You may have won the actual trial but I won at life. Now tell me what’s up.”

For the first time since she had met him all those years ago, the fearless lawyer that was the strong, proud, stubborn Lincoln Hunt blushed. Lexa grew more concerned by the second as he drew this out. But there was something about that goofy grin on his face that told her that whatever had happened, it was not a bad thing. Slightly shifting, as if contemplating his words, he finally looked up to face her.

“I met a girl.”

Lincoln met a girl. Lexa failed to see the problem.

“Okay… you met a girl. And that has you standing in the middle of the entrance hall because…?”

“Well, I was on my way to meet up with her but I didn’t want to make any typos so I figured I better stop and finish my text.”

Lexa’s jaw almost dropped in fascination.

“Well, she better be god damn special. Where did you meet her?”

“At the Hillwood, she came up to me while I was waiting for the subject at the bar. Then I had to go back to work, and when I finished up I took a lap just to see if she was still there. I caught her just as she was about to leave, and it turned out she had been looking for me as well. So I asked for her number and we’ve been seeing each other a couple of times since.”

The fact that he had let a girl distract him while on duty aside, Lincoln wasn’t really known for being a romantic. Lexa knew he was a sap at heart, so she wasn’t really surprised. However, she was a bit impressed that he had allowed himself to be carried away so quickly.

“Really? Someone’s got it good, I see. So what’s the name of this mysterious lucky woman?” she asked with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow. The smirk was quickly replaced by disgust when she saw the way Lincoln’s face lit up at her question.

“Octavia. Octavia Blake.”

xxx

“ _Clarke, I really need you to hurry your ass over here!_ ” Octavia hissed at her over the phone.

“Relax O, I’m on my way! It’s Raven that you need to worry about, I’m never late and I’m not about to start now,” she reassured her friend over the phone.

The night was going to be spent at one of Clarke’s favourite venues: an art gallery. She had always been a pretty decent amateur sketcher and she had a deep an undying love for art in general. Tonight, one of the cities finer galleries – _The Arkadia_ – was going to open their new exhibition and Clarke was beyond excited. Even more so now that she would be attending with her friends. Personally she had been invited because of Marcus and his generous donations over the years. Octavia and Raven had not been directly invited (nor anyone else in their families) but Clarke had been able to pull a few strings to get Raven in and Octavia was beyond excited over having been asked to go with Lincoln.

This was also the reason to why Clarke was currently sitting in a car on her way to Octavia’s condo instead of arriving along with her parents. Octavia was clearly losing her nerve and had insisted that they three friends met up there before leaving so that they could arrive together.

“ _I’m not worried about you being late. But you’re not supposed to be here_ on _time, you’re supposed to arrive_ before _time so that you can help me with my outfit!_ ”

Clarke closed her eyes and groaned for half a second, this was _exactly_ what she had been afraid of.

“Octavia Blake, for the love of god, _please_ tell me that you are not sitting on you bed in only your underwear.”

The silence on the other end of the line was answer enough.

“God dammit O, I need to be on time! My dad’s rep is under enough pressure right now, he doesn’t need his daughter showing up late to important events just because her love struck friend couldn’t dress herself.”

Clarke tried her best to sound irritated even though she really wasn’t. She was not certain that she had succeeded until she heard Octavia’s resigned tone.

_“I’m sorry Clarke, I keep on forgetting that you’re an important person now.”_

“Gee, I’m going to take that as a compliment, thank you very much. And it’s fine, just make sure that when I walk through those doors there are three outfits ready for me to choose between. And whatever I pick is final. You will have until Raven shows up to get dressed or we’ll leave without you, hun,” she smiled into her phone before hanging up.

Octavia had obliged, and Clarke had picked out a white, knee-long wrap dress and a pair of nude heels along with golden jewellery. Thankfully Octavia had been thoughtful enough to do her make up before she called Clarke, so it was fairly little effort to get her ready. They walked out of the brunette’s building just as Raven arrived.

“Well hello there, ladieeeess,” the newcomer exclaimed, dragging out the last syllable.

“Look at the two of you, you cleaned up nicely!”

Octavia just smiled and Clarke did a spin, just for extra measure, before she chuckled and gave her other best friend a onceover. Raven was going for all black tonight with sky high, jet black stilettos and a black dress with a neckline that plummeted down between her breasts and narrowed down to end at her waistline. Her rather short, brown hair was down for once and she had opted for a smoky make up.

“Raven, stunning as usual,” Clarke offered, reaching out the arm that Octavia hadn’t claimed to walk her two ladies towards the car. Flashing a smile to the driver that opened the door for them, they all settled into the spacious backseat.

“Are we ready to go to Arkadia, ladies?” he politely asked.

Clarke made eye contact with him in the rear-view mirror and gave him a resolute nod.

xxx

Already at The Arkadia, Lexa was mindlessly sipping from a champagne flute while flowing through the crowd like she had never done anything else. Being in her business kind of meant that you had to be a great mingler. Her job was to know things, and even if she loved finding out them the old-fashioned way (with books and files, that was), she also recognised the benefit of a great network. So here she was, roaming the halls of a fancy gallery that she didn’t really care about, finding out things that she didn’t really care about but that she would never, ever forget because before you knew it they would come in handy. An added bonus was that she had a great many clients here today, which made for great marketing opportunities but also was a way for her to combine work with pleasure.

As she drifted closer to the entrance, she managed to arrive just in time for Marcus Kane’s arrival along with his wife, Abigail. They looked what one might call _absolutely dashing_ , Lexa though with an exaggerated accent which made her chuckle internally. There was no sign of a daughter however, which Lexa made a mental note. Not planning on actually talking to the man, not yet at least, she began to walk away in the direction of another client when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning around and raising her eyebrow – people usually knew better than to touch her unannounced – she found herself facing the very person she had been walking away from.

“Mr. Kane, what a pleasure to see you here,” she said with an award-winning smile plastered to her face.

“Please, call me Marcus. I just wanted to thank you for the extraordinary work you’ve done on the contract, I don’t think I’ve ever done business with an agency as flexible and service minded as yours. I hope my lawyers didn’t give you too much of a hard time, I do sincerely intend to have a long lasting and prosperous collaboration with you, Ms. Woods,” he said, half politician, half genuine. At least that was the mix that Lexa decided to settle on in her own mind. He was wearing a tux that he only looked half comfortable in and Lexa decided to play nice even though she’d had this exact conversation a million times with a million customers and really just wanted to thank him and walk away. He seemed to be really trying, after all.

“Oh please, Mr. Kane - I mean Marcus – it’s been my pleasure. And as for any _hard times_ I’ve been more than glad to see to them. It’s a matter of your safety after all, and I want to be sure that all of this is going to be as smooth of a ride as possible for you and your family.”

The last part she directed as much to Abigail, who just smiled warmly at her before looking at her husband with an expectant look, clearly waiting for him to introduce them. Lexa almost laughed at the sight, how was it possible for a man as nice and well educated as Marcus to be this bad at social gatherings. If she didn’t know better, she would have described him as a little awkward. Finally catching up, the man’s eyes widened for a second before hurriedly looking between Lexa and his wife.

“Oh dear, my sincerest apologies – Ms. Woods, let me introduce me to my wife, Abigail Griffin-Kane. Abby, this is Lexa Woods, owner of Forrester & Woods, my new security firm.”

Lexa offered her hand and Abigail shook it with just the kind of firmness that Lexa had been expecting.

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Woods. I’m so grateful for the job that you’ve taken on and I’ve heard only good things about your firm. I’m sure that it’s enough to keep you busy with this man. I mean I should know, I’m married to him,” she said, rolling her eyes at the last part. Lexa laughed politely, she always liked a woman with humour, before reaching out to briefly touch the woman’s arm.

“I’m happy to be of service, that is my job after all. I’ve heard a lot about your work as a surgeon as well, and I must say that I’m impressed. It’s not a short track record you’ve got their, Mrs. Griffin-Kane.”

“Ah well, a woman does what a woman needs to do. I’m sure yours will be miles longer by the time you get my age. And please, call me Abby, no one’s got time for that outragesly long last name.”

As Abby talked another woman had joined their conversation. Lexa hadn’t noticed at first, embarrassingly enough, but suddenly she felt a pair of eyes being trained on her face. As she laughed at the older woman’s joke she turned slightly to see a young blonde standing next to Marcus. Her face, piercing blue eyes and the man’s hand on her back all indicated one thing: this was Clarke Griffin. The woman was wearing a sky blue dress that matched her eyes. It was short sleeved with a square neckline and ended just above the knees. Her make-up was simple yet extremely precise, her hands were almost as well manicured as Lexa’s own and she carried herself with a composure that radiated courage and yet self-awareness.

After giving her a subtle once over, so subtle that she was pretty sure that the woman hadn’t noticed, she took a chance and looked into the girl’s eyes. Lexa was known for being able to hold her ground in stare downs, but this time it was different. There was no challenge in Clarke’s eyes, only questions and curiosity and they were oh so deep. Refusing to get lost and/or look like a fool Lexa immediately snapped away and looked back at Marcus.

“So, am I correct to assume that this is the final member of the family?” she asked with a smile and arched eyebrow.

“You are indeed. Clarke, may I present Lexa Woods, owner of our new security firm,” Marcus said to his daughter, not bothering to introduce her to Lexa. He probably had realized that she had read all about them in their files anyway.

Clarke gave a surprised but approving nod (God, was Lexa used to those) before shaking Lexa’s hand. Her grasp was much softer than her mother’s, but it had the same amount of authority to it. This was not a family to be messed with, with or without her protection, Lexa though to herself. It was apparent that they were used to being in these kinds of environments, and Lexa knew that they lived in one of the better of neighbourhoods and had been for some time. For a split second she envisioned a young Clarke, walking gracefully beside her mother and charming all of the rich, old people with her wits and gracefulness.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Woods,” the blonde said, while holding on to Lexa’s hand for a second.

“Likewise. Now, I better be on my way before the line of people that wants to get their share of you starts to riot,” she said with a smirk to the family in front of her before walking off. She felt a pair of eyes, probably blue, burn a hole in her back as she went.

xxx

When Clarke had walked in to The Arkadia almost half an hour after walking out of Octavia’s apartment she had stopped in the entrance, in complete awe of the building that lay at her feet. The modern structure with its white walls, impressive ceiling height and light wooden floor was buzzing with life. Before she knew it, someone had taken her coat and someone else had offered her a glass of champagne which she gracefully took without paying much mind to the waiter. Raven and Octavia followed closely behind as they slowly strode into the main hall. They were attracting attention, she knew that. They were three young, good looking société girls from well-known families and people had been looking at them for the past ten years, at least.

In a way she liked it, marvelled in the looks as her self-confidence sky rocketed. But just as soon as it happened it also quickly turned sour. First of all, half of the looks they usually got were not anywhere near decent and second of all she would be lying if she said that she was free of insecurities. Somehow, she had always been the natural leader. She always walked first into a room, she decided when they left, who they talked to first and who they would not talk to at all and that was a position that she was not at all comfortable with. But being her mother’s daughter she knew how to fake it ‘til she made it.

Once they were safely inside she stopped and turned to her fellow musketeers, only to find Raven already looking like she was going to throw up and Octavia looking like she was about to faint.

“Oh my god, I see him. He’s right there! What do we do?” she almost squeaked.

Raven made gagging noises while Clarke shook her head and laughed.

“ _We_ are not going to do anything, O. I have to go and talk to my parents and by the looks of it, Raven would rather die than watch the two of you being cute alone. I’ll catch up with you later though, I promise! Now go get your man,” she winked at Octavia who took a few deep breaths before nodding and walking off.

“Fine, I’ll just go and be all by myself at the bar then,” Raven drawled, clearly not impressed over being left all alone as soon as they arrived.

“Or you could actually look at the art,” Clarke called over her shoulder as she walked away. She scanned the room for her parents, knowing that they probably wouldn’t have made it very far. Being right, as usual, she found them standing not far from the entrance speaking to what might have been the best-looking person on the planet.

The woman couldn’t have been more than maybe three to four years her senior, with a tan complexion and a slim but yet athletic build. Her hair was brown and a couple of inches longer than Clarke’s own. It looked like it had been straightened, or at least thoroughly combed through since it fell perfectly down the sides of her face, not a single strand trying to escape. Her long sleeved, deep green dress was just the right mix of revealing and professional. The heels she was wearing suggested that she had a decent amount of money and the fact that she alone caught the attention of a mayoral candidate and the most renowned surgeon in Washington told Clarke that whoever this girl was, she was _someone_.

  
All of these things certainly peaked Clarke’s curiosity. She was not going to lie – she was attracted to the woman – but that wasn’t it. She felt like this was a girl with a story, and something inside of her wanted to know more. Rolling her neck the way she usually did before going into surgery she walked up to the small group and took her place on Marcus’ right. Abby was telling one of her dry jokes as she arrived and apparently had the brunette’s undivided attention which gave Clarke an opportunity to get a closer look. Her face was soft but not round, a rather sharp jawline and thin lips made her look like someone you didn’t want to mess with. She smiled but it was clear as day that she was faking it. Not that Clarke didn’t think that she didn’t want to be here, she just didn’t seem like the kind of person who allowed themselves to enjoy life too much.

As Abby finished up her story, she could feel how the brunette had caught her staring. Clarke was never one to back down from a challenge however, so she kept her gaze steady. The woman gave her a quick and almost unnoticeable once over (Clarke was happy she was wearing a good dress) before locking eyes with her. Green, almost hesitant orbs filled with suspicion and questions held hers for a brief moment before looking away and fixing themselves on Marcus. Clarke merely raised an eyebrow, she had not expected the other woman to give in that easily.

“So, am I correct to assume that this is the final member of the family?” the brunette asked him with a resolute voice that did not sound the way Clarke had expected it to sound like. She had envisioned the woman’s voice as soft and maybe a bit hesitant, but this was commanding and rich. Raising the other eyebrow at her apparently knowing who Clarke was, she waited for her father to clear up her questions.

“You are indeed. Clarke, may I present Lexa Woods, owner of our new security firm,” Marcus said.

Pieces rapidly aligned themselves in Clarke’s head. That’s why Marcus had been standing here for so long, introducing Abby and making small talk. This girl, woman, in front of them was responsible for not only his but also his wife, daughter’s and campaign’s safety. That also explained why the girl seemed a bit closed off, Clarke didn’t really pin security people as open books. If she owned the firm herself that would also account for her ridiculously expensive shoes and jewellery, and Clarke was beginning to suspect the dress of being custom made. She recognised the name immediately. Her face occasionally popped up in different newspapers and magazines, but she somehow looked different from the photos when you stood face to face with her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Woods,” she said, reaching out to shake Lexa’s hand. Her grasp was resolute and slightly unenthusiastic. Clarke smiled, this woman did clearly not want to be bothered.

“Likewise. Now, I better be on my way before the line of people that wants to get their share of you start to riot,” Lexa replied before walking away, leaving her mother telling Marcus what a charming young woman she was and Clarke staring at her back.

xxx

As Lexa was walking away from Marcus and his family she decided to swing by the bar on her way to nowhere in particular. That Clarke girl had been a sight for sore eyes, she would be the first to admit that (not out loud, but to herself). Based from what Lexa already had read about her she was both smart and popular and seemed to come from a background that was everything Lexa’s own wasn’t. She had felt the way Clarke had scanned her all the while she had been standing there, and it had been a long time since Lexa had felt so vulnerable. She didn’t like it, not one bit. So, naturally she had decided to walk away before it could get any worse.

Grabbing a martini from the bar she spotted Lincoln standing a few feet away with a beautiful girl on his arm. Raising her eyebrow she made her way over, perfectly intent on making his life a living hell and not at all because she was still grumpy about the trial from last week.

“So Linc, I can see why you haven’t been able to shut up about her,” she said, smiling her most inviting smile first at Lincoln and then at his girl.

Lincoln (almost) flushed deep red at the implication that was only part true and Lexa swore she saw the girl go through ten different emotions in two seconds, everything from happiness and pride to shame and embarrassment. Lincoln draped an arm around her waist before turning to Lexa with an unimpressed look.

“Lexa, what a pleasure that you decided to join us. Octavia, meet my boss, Lexa Woods,” he drawled, clearly unsure about allowing Lexa too close. Lexa just smirked, knowing full well that he was right to be careful, and extended her hand to Octavia. The other brunette, however, didn’t take it and just as Lexa was beginning to wonder if she really had offended her she realised that the girl’s mouth was completely open.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s you! You’re _the_ Lexa Woods?” she asked, eyes wide.

Now it was Lexa’s turn to (almost) flush. Her company was growing and ever since she had started taking on bigger clients more and more people had started to recognise her. Her face was popping up in the newspapers every once in a while, and just last week she had been stopped in the street, but she was still wildly uncomfortable every time someone recognised her. Even more uncomfortable when they had the reaction Octavia now was having. Lincoln knew this, and was therefore once again having the time of his life.

“Babe, I’ve told you that I work at Forrester & Woods,” he chuckled at his girlfriend’s exclamation.

“Yeah, but you’ve never told me that you work with _her_!” Octavia hissed back, clearly growing more offended by the second.

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal…” he tried, trying not to make things any worse but, judging by Octavia’s face, failing.

Lexa felt herself growing more and more uncomfortable the more Octavia gushed and tried her best to step in.

“It’s really not that big of an agency, we work together a lot. It’s not a big deal,” she tried, realising too late that she was not helping Lincoln’s cause.

“What do you mean ‘not a big deal’, Lincoln? Do you understand how amazing this is? I’ve been dying to meet her for years and you’re telling me _now_ that I could’ve just visited you at work and done just that?” she asked, poking him furiously in the chest.

Just as Lincoln seemed to be at a loss, a person that Lexa did not expect to see or talk to again that particular night showed up. Clarke Griffin, this time in the company of yet another brunette, slipped in next to Octavia with an amused look. She looked over briefly at Lexa and greeted her with a small nod before turning her focus on the situation at hand.

“Raven, you won’t believe this! Lincoln just told me that he works with Lexa Woods,” Octavia said, ignoring Clarke (along with Lincoln and Lexa herself for that matter) and speaking directly to the brunette newcomer.

The name, Raven, told Lexa that this was Pablo Reyes daughter. He was an oil-CEO who had worked his way up from nothing, crossing the Mexican border at age seven and then using his mind for business and a whole lot of street smart to make his way to the top. Now he was one of the richer people in the city and it didn’t surprise her one bit that she was part of Clarke Griffin’s crew. That much was clear to Lexa, the girls may be ‘best friends forever’, but Clarke was their leader.

“Lexa _who_?” Raven asked confused, and Lexa felt zero offence and a whole lot of gratitude for someone acting reasonable around here.

“Lexa _Woods,_ Raven. Owner of Forrester & Woods? The security whiz with that big office downtown just a few blocks from my job? I told you to read her Time’s interview like weeks ago?” Octavia said incredulously as a light seemed to go on inside Raven’s head.

Lincoln was looking like he was beginning to be slightly embarrassed by his girlfriend and Clarke seemed to have a hard time reining in her laughter when Lexa decided to step in and put an end to it.

“Guys, I’m right here,” she said, taking a step forward to fully enter their little circle. Raven, who clearly had been ambushed before she had the chance to notice the green-clad woman almost jumped before yet another mouth dropped open that night.

“Raven Reyes, I presume? I’ve met your father on multiple occasions, charming man,” she said, flashing a smile to the other woman who just about managed to close her mouth.

“As for Ms. Griffin, if I didn’t know any better I would think that you followed me here,” she continued with a raised eyebrow and just the hint of a smirk, she was joking after all.

Hearing her last name Lincoln also caught up.

“Clarke Griffin? Are you Marcus Kane’s daughter?” he asked her, extending his hand for her to shake.

“Guilty as charged, I’m afraid. And I assume that you’re the guy that O’s been obsessing over for weeks now,” she retorted, ever so charming, Lexa concluded.

“Lincoln Hunt, at your service! Quite literally, actually. It’s nice to put a face to all that paperwork,” he joked back.

Lexa put a hand on his shoulder, knowing that he knew fully well that he wasn’t supposed to discuss cases out in the open. Clarke didn’t seem to mind though, but Lexa felt like she had to intervene none the less.

“Lincoln, please. That’s hardly an appropriate topic, is it?” she said, lacing her voice with sweetness that would be just enough for her message to get through.

Lincoln raised his hands and made a motion with his hands to zip his mouth shut. Lexa just nodded at him before she faced the rest of the group. However fascinating this power trio was, she had some networking to do.

“Well ladies, if you don’t mind. It’s been a pleasure meeting you all but I’m going to get myself a drink and then continue on my way. Octavia, how about you stop by our office around lunch sometime next week? You could see how Lincoln spends his days and I would be delighted to take such a young, ambitious woman out for a bite,” she said, feeling extra generous today.

It was apparent that Octavia admired her work and she really wanted Lincoln to be happy. Also, the young brunette seemed pretty sharp, and you never knew when a young, intelligent associate could be of use. Octavia herself seemed like she was going to faint. Flashing them all one last smile she let her eyes linger on Clarke’s for an extra moment, the girl was like a magnet, before turning on her high heels and heading to pick another martini.

xxx

After Lexa Woods had left them to their devices Octavia had been on the absolute edge. In between sobs and intense hyper ventilation she had managed to border on every emotion known to humanity while Lincoln did his best to calm her down. Clarke knew exactly how to do that: she needed to sit down and list her favourite shoe brands or the 33 amendments (in rare cases, both), but she wasn’t about to tell Lincoln that. Firstly, she felt like he needed to learn and secondly because she was fighting an internal battle of her own.

Clarke Griffin wouldn’t describe herself as vain or self-centred, but she usually got what she wanted. Or more specifically, _who_ she wanted. And ever since she had laid eyes on Lexa Woods, there had been this feeling of curiosity, like she needed to know _more._ She wanted to know how she got into the security business, why she never smiled with her eyes, how she managed to sound interested and completely detached at the same time, how old she was (because let’s face it – she looked like 22 but acted like 42) and where she came from. She also knew that would be wildly inappropriate since she was basically Lexa’s client. Not because of the questions, but because Clarke knew that by asking those questions she wanted more than simple answers – she wanted to get to know the girl.

It usually took no more than a flash of her most charming smile for someone to offer her a drink. Tonight, she had been flashing that smile non-stop since she arrived for one person and one person only, all while said person had barely looked at her. The reasonable Clarke knew to take this as a sign that Lexa wasn’t anywhere as intrigued by her as she was by her. The hopeful Clarke lingered on the fractions of moments when she could have sworn that Lexa’s eyes had lingered on hers a little _too_ long. She knew that she should let this go but the fact that she was even debating it with herself proved that she was bound to embarrass herself anyway sooner or later. Taking a few deep breaths to compose herself she turned to Lincoln.

“I want two cranberry martinis, please,” she said moments later, flashing both her card and her eyelashes to the bartender who immediately gave her his full attention.

She could feel green eyes piercing her from her right but knew that if she was going to get Lexa to pay attention to her, she needed to act right. The brunette didn’t seem like the kind of person that would appreciate a star-struck stalker, which – let’s face it – had been pretty much Clarke all evening. She would have exactly one shot at turning this around if she wanted any chance to get to know this woman.

“Is that for me?” she heard a slightly unimpressed voice ask.

“Well not both of ‘em, but one might be. If you want it, that is,” she tried, mentally slapping herself for making it sound like a cheap pick up-line.

Spinning ninety degrees to her right she faced Lexa Woods for the third time in an hour. Once again, she tried to understand what drew her to this woman, and once again she failed. Sure, she was outrageously good looking and mysterious and that happened to be just Clarke’s cup of tea, but this wasn’t physical. Well, not entirely. She thought that a lot of it probably boiled down to those eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes that seemed to be able to tell the story of a lifetime, but even that didn't completely cover it. Settling for a weird mixture of attraction, fascination and destiny she went for the brightest smile she could muster while extending one of the martinis (that the bartender certainly had taken his sweet time to prepare).

Lexa eyed it for a second, like it could be poison of some kind, before tenaciously accepting it.

“I’ll take it, while I consider whether I will have to get myself a restraining order or not,” she said dismissively.

The air grew steadily thicker while Clarke tried to figure out if she was to take that comment as her definite cue to leave or if Lexa was just fucking with her. Damn, when did she get so slow? She studied medicine for god’s sake, she was supposed to be both smart _and_ good at reading people. She was finally put out of her misery when another one of Lexa’s almost undetectable smirks appeared. She had seen it earlier, when Lexa had made her first remark about Clarke following her around.

“Relax kiddo, I’m just messing with you,” she said, letting that smile grow just a bit wider (and Clarke decided right then and there that she liked that smile, a lot).

“ _Kiddo?_ Excuse me, how old do you think I am? And more importantly, how old are you?” Clarke asked, feigning offence.

Apparently her theatre skills were a little too on point though, because the smile on Lexa’s lips immediately disappeared and was replaced by that unbreakable professional façade again.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Griffin, I shouldn’t have…”

“Oh, stop it right now. Dad’s your client, not me. You’re perfectly allowed to joke on my expense. And I’m 24, by the way. So, you tell me, can you still call me a kiddo?” she cut Lexa off, making clear she did not want to be treated like her father just because of a last name she hadn’t even taken. Lexa just scoffed and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I’m definitely old enough. How did you know what I drink?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at the apparent way she avoided to directly answer the question.

“Well, I saw you drinking a martini earlier so there was that. I also kind of figured that you weren’t into all those sweet ones, like strawberry or pineapple, so cranberry seemed like a reasonable alternative,” she reasoned, not wanting to admit that she had asked Lincoln for advice.

“Fair enough, Ms. Griffin. Now, if you’ll excuse me for real this time, I really have to network with at least a few people that are _not_ all part of the same Spring Valley girl-gang,” she drawled, but once again letting that small smirk return to her lips.

Her eyes had that trace of a spark in them that Clarke could’ve sworn hadn’t been there two minutes ago, and for just a second, she let herself believe that Lexa Woods almost enjoyed her company. Her moment was quickly fading though, and she knew that if she didn’t come up with a good reason to stay she would have to walk away (and actually stay away this time). Quickly scanning the area, she developed a game plan.

“Do you need a wingman?” she asked with (really faked) confidence.

Lexa turned to look at her with a weird grimace on her face. Clarke was pretty certain that it was a solid mixture of ‘what did you just say’ and ‘are you out of your mind’ but refused to back down.

“I’m sorry, what?” the brunette asked, shaking her head in confusion.

“I asked if you needed a wingman,” Clarke repeated, still beaming in what was probably a way to reassure herself rather than convince Lexa.

“Why would I need a wingman?” Lexa asked.

“Well, I’m just thinking that two networks are better than one. And it’s definitely more fun!”

“For you maybe, I’m not here to have fun. And I’ve been doing just fine with only one network for years. Do you even know what I’m looking for, Clarke?”

This was the first time that Lexa had called her Clarke and not Ms. Griffin (or _kiddo_ ) and Clarke was momentarily dazed by the way she popped the K at the end. Lexa also noticed her slip, judging from how her mouth fell slightly agape after saying it, but was apparently not about to act on it. Clarke gathered herself before she quickly scanned the room once more.

“Well for starters, you run a security agency, or at least that’s what I hear…”

Lexa raised her eyebrow at this in a silent dare for Clarke to make one more joke.

“Right, sorry. What I was going to say is that you’re probably here to do three things: keeping up good relations with existing clients, finding potential new ones and finding general bits of information that be useful for you. I’m not saying that I know much about any of those, but I know for a fact that I can be an asset when it comes to mingling and gossiping. And for all we know, I might even be able to provide you with a client or two,” she said with a wink, slowly regaining her confidence as she realised that she actually had a valid point

Lexa looked like she was closer to caving but not all the way there yet, so Clarke just kept on talking.

“Look, I know that you probably think that I’m some rich entitled kid that just wants to hear some of all the tea that goes around in this place, and maybe that’s true. And I know that you probably have all these rules about how much you can interact with a client, I get that. But you… your work fascinates me, it’s as simple as that. And you’re putting up a huge effort for my dad, so if it makes it any easier you can just view this as a favour.”

Clarke bit the inside of her cheek at how close she had been to reveal that _Lexa_ was what fascinated her, not her work. But she had managed to cover that one up, this time. Lexa seemed to be staring into nothingness for a while before finally rolling her eyes.

“Fine. You can come along, but the second you’re causing more trouble than you’re fixing you’re out…”

“Indefinitely.”

“… and if I catch you flirting with a client…”  
“I’m out.”

_Like she would even look at anybody else with Lexa on her side._

“… and if you happen to hear anything that might be even slightly confidential and I find out you’ve talked about it with anyone…”  
“I get it, I’m out.”  
“I was going to say that I’ll come after you, but sure.”

Clarke laughed, the brunette really had a sense of humour deep inside of that marble demeanour she kept up. It would be her own personal mission tonight to make sure that it surfaced more often.

“Are you even allowed to come after me? I though you signed a contract to keep me safe.”  
“I wrote that contract. I’m sure I can find a loophole.”

Effectively ending their little banter, Lexa downed her drink before preparing to walk off. Clarke quickly followed suit and followed Lexa toward the crowd. She managed to get eye contact with Raven who seemed to be mouthing a ‘what are you doing’ to which Clarke only shrugged, she didn’t really know herself.

“Maybe you should go and entertain Ms. Reyes, if she’s worried about you,” Lexa said over her shoulder, not bothering to turn around.

“Wow, someone’s got eyes at the back of her skull. Not bad for a lawyer,” Clarke offered, trying her best to keep up with the speed that was far too high for the height of their heels.

“I’m not a lawyer,” Lexa replied in a clipped tone.

“Oh, sorry, I just assumed…” Clarke trailed off.

She had just thought that Lexa would’ve been a lawyer because of the work she did and the way she talked (plus the fact that she dressed like someone from Suits in every picture Clarke had ever seen). She remembered reading an interview with her from a few months back, but now that she thought about it there had only been stuff about her doing law work, not actually being a lawyer.

“If you’re not a lawyer, then what are you?” she asked curiously.

For a second she thought that Lexa hadn’t heard her, because there was no trace of an answer. Then she realized that of course the brunette heard her, she was just being ignored.

“Not everyone has to be _something_ , Clarke. All of us didn’t go to college prep. Now, one more question and you’re…”

“Out. Sorry,” Clarke finished for her.

Apparently this was a touchy subject, and she knew better than to approach it. Instead she followed Lexa silently while she slowly felt her self-doubt rising again. She had promised that she would be of use, and she felt like that might be harder that she had envisioned. Sure, she knew a lot of these people, but Lexa probably did as well. However, Clarke knew them personally. Lexa knew them at best from a dinner of a fundraiser but probably mostly from a bunch of documents. Trying to remember something that could come in handy about anyone of her contacts she finally came up with an idea.

“Hey, Lexa, come with me. I’ve got someone you should meet,” she said, reaching for the brunette without thinking about what she was doing.

As her fingers brushed Lexa’s bicep she froze immediately, realising her mistake far too late. Slowly retracting her hand she waited for a bite that never came, instead Lexa absentmindedly brought her hand up to touch the point of impact before catching herself and raising an eyebrow to urge Clarke forward. Smiling and walking in the direction of the person she had in mind she silently wondered how Lexa managed to be so god damn commanding all the time.

xxx

This girl was slowly proving herself to be the potential end of her. Lexa had no idea how she even had gone from wanting to yell at her for following her (even after she had made her second runaway) to actually allowing the girl to join her on the most important part of the night. She tried her best to pinpoint it in her mind, was it the smile, the never-ending stream of bad jokes and happiness or was it the fact that behind all those (painfully) good looks there was actually a brain? In the back of her head she knew that this could go very badly, but then she also knew that there was a big chance that they would have little to no contact after this.

Yeah, sure, Clarke was the daughter of her client (and if you were being technical, very much part of the security deal), but that wouldn’t mean that they would have to meet. Lexa could assign other people to those events if it would be necessary. _Not that you should ever compromise yourself like that in the first place,_ a small voice said in the back of her head. And it wasn’t like they were doing anything illegal, in fact, they weren’t doing much of anything at all so Lexa didn’t even know why she bothered.

Being so lost in thought she didn’t even realise that they had stopped until she found herself eye to eye with an old man. He was wearing tux from one of the finer tailors in town and beside him was an elderly lady who Lexa assumed was his wife. She had pearls around her neck that would be worth a multi-figure amount and wore a long but stylish gown that made her look a bit like the Queen but skinnier. Around them stood a few other elderly couples, but Clarke seemed to focus on the man closest to Lexa.

“Mr. Barrow, such a pleasure to see you here. And Amelia, it’s been too long!”

Clarke was trading pleasantries and giving out hugs and kisses on the cheeks to everyone in the vicinity while Lexa awaited her turn. It was clear that the blonde had grown up in these surroundings, she handled it like this was what she was put on this earth to do in the first place. The women’s faces lit up as soon as they saw her, and the men were too grounded by her flattery to ever bother looking away from her. She was like the sun, spreading warmth and light and being worshipped by those who got to be near enough, Lexa though to herself.

“Now, may I introduce Ms. Lexa Woods. She is a valued friend and collaborator of my father’s,” Clarke said, motioning toward Lexa who took a step forward to shake hands.

“Well, a friend of Marcus’ is a friend of mine, Ms. Woods. Pleased to meet you!” the man said, squeezing her hand.

Lexa squeezed back and was about to ask some vague question about which business he was in when Clarke interfered in what would’ve been an abrupt way for anyone other than Clarke.

“So, Mr. Barrow - George, I heard what happened last week. I do hope that you’ve recovered,” she said sympathetically, while placing a hand on his shoulder.

Lexa felt like the conversation once again took a turn towards where she couldn’t follow. This should feel like a bad thing, since they were on a mission to improve _her_ network and not Clarke’s. But somehow she felt like the blonde knew what she was doing, so she simply smiled and bided her time. As the conversation progressed, she was beginning to see why Clarke had brought them over here in the first place. George Barrow appeared to have had (*drum roll*) suffered from a security breach. His personal accounts, both administrative and financial, had been hacked and large sums were missing. It looked like he was going to get most of it back due to excessive insurances and wise placements, but as any man he was still shaken.

Clarke listened and comforted as the story rolled along, she offered her deepest sympathies and heartfelt condolences in a way that almost even had Lexa feeling for the poor man. She tried her best to act her part, mostly just following Clarke’s lead. It was fascinating really, she had always been confident in her ability to talk to people, but she had nothing on this woman. Maybe, just maybe, allowing Clarke to tag along hadn’t been that much of a bad idea. She was brought out of her musings by a pale, perfectly manicured hand being placed on her shoulder. Trying her best not to show any discomfort or frown on her face, Lexa interpreted the slight squeeze as a sign that Clarke wanted her to stay alert.

“Well I shan’t be hogging your time anymore, Mr. Barrow. Please let me know it there’s _anything_ myself or my Marcus can do to make this any easier, we’ll be delighted to help.”

“Thank you, Clarke. Unless you know a way to make sure this never happens again there’s not much more to do, I’m afraid. But you are a sweetheart, I’ll make sure to tell everyone down at the Georgetown that.”

“Actually, how silly of me to not think of that, Marcus just hired Lexa here along with her firm to take care of those things for him. She owns this big security agency downtown and handles both online and offline threats. Marcus tells me all the time how happy he is with their services. She’s a busy woman, but I’m sure that she could fit you in for a consultation, right Lex?” Clarke asked, looking at Lexa with her best puppy eyes.

Lexa inwardly rolled her eyes at how painfully obvious this was, but Mr. Barrow apparently bought it, so she played along.

“I would hate to make you feel pressured into making any decisions, Mr. Barrow, but yes - I’m sure I can find the time to help you if you would be interested,” she smiled at a positively surprised Mr. Barrow.

“Why don’t you take my card and, if you feel like it, give my office a call in the morning. Tell them you want to speak with Lexa Woods. I’ll take on this case myself, a friend of Clarke’s is a friend of mine,” she continued before giving them one last smile.

They bid their goodbyes to the Barrows and their friends, and if Lexa hadn’t been before, she was sure that bringing Clarke along had been an acceptable decision.


	3. So... can I have your number then?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another party, another round of drinks and more Clexa (with a dash of our one and only: Octavia).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh.. don't know how I feel about this, but it has to be posted so that we can move on to the more exciting parts so I'm just ripping off the band-aid. Push through it!
> 
> The POV is still going back and forth a bit, maybe annoyingly so, but I promise it's going to better further on in the story. Just felt like a good way to really get in their heads and understand them better from the beginning.

About a week later Lexa Woods had all but filed the Arkadia escapades into her memories. Everything except a certain blonde. Clarke Griffin was on her mind a little more often than she would like her to be. Watching the sky, feeling the last warm sunrays on her skin before winter took over completely, reminded her of blonde hair and blue eyes and it would have to stop. Lexa was known for her focus and dedication and was sure as hell not about to compromise that for a girl. Especially not when said girl was a de facto-client.

Walking down a hallway in her office she skimmed over a few files while sipping on a cup of coffee (she was good at multitasking). It was a quiet place this particular morning – Indra and Nyko were out of town on business, Echo worked from home, Emori was locked inside her computer lab (as usual) which left only herself, Lincoln and Luna, their receptionist (who was more like their ‘have a problem? She’s your guy’-person). There had been no meetings scheduled for the day when Lexa had checked. That’s why, when she passed Lincoln’s office and heard an unfamiliar voice, she stopped, doubled back and poked her head in.

When she saw Octavia she mentally slapped herself. Firstly because she had forgotten all about her promise and secondly because she never really though the brunette would actually show up. She should have known though, that when you invite what seems to be your number one fan to lunch, she _is_ very much going to show and it would be more than rude to refuse now.  
  
“Octavia, what a lovely surprise to see you here. Hope Lincoln’s given you a proper tour, not only of his own office,” she said as she walked in through the glass door.

Octavia was far better at keeping her cool today that she had been at The Arkadia, but smiled from ear to ear when she saw Lexa nonetheless. Jumping up from her seat on the end of Lincoln’s desk she went to stand beside him instead. Lexa was able to size her up a little easier today than she had been able to a week ago. She looked smart in a red blouse and black pencil skirt and her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail.

“Lexa! I- I mean, Ms. Woods. Your facilities are so beautiful, this is really a dream come true to be here. I won’t be long though, I promise, I need to go and grab lunch before I get back to work and if I’m late my boss will kill me. She’s scary like that…”

Lexa tried to stand her ground against the small tsunami of words that came flowing through Octavia’s mouth. Carefully looking over at Lincoln, he just shrugged like there was nothing he could do. She looked back at Octavia only to find the brunette slowing down as reality caught up with her.

“Oh no, I’m rambling again, huh?” she asked embarrassed.

“Only slightly,” Lexa replied, holding up her hand with a tiny space between thumb and index finger.

“Sorry, I tend to do that when I get excited. Anyway, I’ll see myself out,” Octavia mumbled before gathering her things.

Lexa smiled and was about to leave the room, considering herself relieved from her duties since Octavia basically had left without bringing it up. As she took a step back, Lincoln caught her eye with a raised eyebrow and a questioning face. Sighing, she turned back again.

“How about I buy you that lunch I promised instead? There’s this really neat salad bar down the street that I think you would like,” Lexa offered.

Octavia barely managed a nod which Lexa took as her cue to leave, and then they were on their way.

Once they had exited the building Lexa allowed Octavia to walk up beside her. The sun was out for once and even though the wind had Lexa pull her coat tighter around herself she allowed herself to tilt her head backwards for a moment and bask in its warmth. It reminded her of Clarke, radiant and light. Shaking her head to recover from the slight lapse of thought she turned to her companion. Octavia seemed too busy making sure that she didn’t trip over her own feet to notice so Lexa took it upon herself to start up a conversation.

“So Octavia, what is it that you do?”

Octavia almost jumped before schooling her features and smiling back.

“Nothing fancy really, I’m a junior associate at Sydney & Jaha, it’s a law firm,” she replied, shrugging.

“ _Nothing fancy?_ Sydney & Jaha is one of the best firms in town, Octavia, you should be proud! How long have you been working there?” Lexa asked, honestly impressed.  
  
She had understood that Octavia was smart, but to be hired as an associate at Sydney & Jaha you would have to be top material. Maybe it was more to Clarke’s little group than just looks and money.  
  
“Only since July. I graduated in June and then moved straight back here.”  
“That’s impressive. Where did you attend law school?”

“Harvard. My friend Raven - you might have seen her at The Arkadia - got headhunted by MIT our first year in high school. We wanted to stay together, so the choice was easy,” she replied offhandedly.

The fact that she used the word ‘choice’ was also proof that this girl had brains. Lexa had read in Clarke’s file that she had attended Harvard as well, but things were for the better if neither Octavia nor Clarke nor anyone else for that matter knew what she did or did not know.

“We as in Raven, you and Clarke?” she asked, trying to sound as uninvested as possible.

“Yeah. We’ve been really close all our lives so parting ways wasn’t really an option. Clarke had a really tough last year in Boston though, so she really wanted to get back home to Washington for her internship. That’s how we all ended up here again,” Octavia finished explaining.

Lexa frowned slightly at this new piece of information. It was not her place to ask about though, at least not yet, so she decided to change the subject to something lighter.

“So, tell me about Sydney & Jaha. I know some people who work there, but it’s always interesting to hear more.”

Octavia smiled at the shown interest and began happily chatting away. Lexa found her company quite pleasant, it was easy to understand how Lincoln had fallen for her bubbly personality and analytical mind. She talked about her coworkers, some interesting cases she had worked on and before they knew it they were seated in a window booth at the salad bar. Lexa had a tofu caesar and Octavia ate their ‘fall special’.

“Clarke told me that you work with her father, it must be really challenging to oversee an entire campaign,” the brunette said in between bites.

“Well, we’ve only just started but it’s bound to get busy sometimes. But we have a lot of similar cases so you get the hang of it after a while,” Lexa said while taking a sip of her water.

“Fair enough. But you can’t do more than one candidate at the time, right?”

“No, that would be seen as a conflict of interest. It’s actually written in the contract. But we work with a lot of philanthropists and people who support causes that might be a splinter in the eye for some. I try to only take on cases that I support myself though, otherwise it would be too challenging. I always try to speak my mind and that would be really hard if I worked for things that I didn’t personally believe in,” Lexa explained.

Octavia nodded thoughtfully.

“You know, I might seem like just another crazy fan girl, but I really appreciate the things you do. You’re a real role model for people like me who are trying to make it out there. You always seem to keep your ground, even if there’s a storm blowing. And you’ve managed to become a really powerful person by sticking to your beliefs. I guess I’m just trying to say that I really look up to the way you work. I’ve always felt like I’m privileged, you know, and that it’s my duty to find a way to give back to society. That’s why I choose to get into law in the first place, I really want to help people.”  
  
Lexa smiled at the girl in front of her. She hardly spent any time analyzing her own public impact. She didn’t read the stories, she didn’t watch the interviews and she consciously scrolled passed anything on social media with her name or face on it. She wasn’t cut out for that life and she didn’t want the weight of influence on her shoulder. But if she had to do it, she was happy that it was interpreted the way Octavia spoke about it.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Octavia: you’ve got what it takes. I’ve met dozens of girls that pursue really hard careers just for the label they think it’s going to get them and they hardly ever make it. You are in this for a reason, and that alone gives you a head start. Keep up the good work and you’ll do great things. If you ever need anything, let me know and I will do my best to help you. But just keep on believing in what’s good in this world and that what you do matters, that’ll get you farther than any contacts in the world.”

“Thanks, Lexa. I really appreciate it.”

They made some more small talk before Octavia had to get back to work. As a junior associate you didn’t really get lunch breaks this long, but she said that she probably could get away with it this once. Lexa paid the bill (even though the brunette protested loudly) and they walked outside into the crisp November air.

“I had a good time, Octavia. Now, as I said, don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need me. You can get my number from Lincoln if you need it,” Lexa said as the younger woman reached in for a hug.

Lexa wasn’t really a hugger, but she would let it slide this once. As they parted she remembered one thing.

“And by the way, tell Clarke that I just landed the Barrow-deal. I really appreciate the help.”

If Octavia didn’t know what she was talking about, she didn’t show. She just smiled and gave a thumbs up before she crossed the street. Lexa walked the short distance back to her office with a smile.

xxx

Clarke was on the bus home from a nerve wrecking day at work. She was still assigned to the ER, and they had been going at it none stop for the last 12 hours. A huge car accident on the highway had been almost more than they could handle. Normally she would have been over the moon because of all the time she had gotten to be in the OR but all the misery had started to get to her head at the end of her shift. Longing for the warmth of her bed she had been brought out of her thoughts when her phone had lit up. Octavia had been calling the way she sometimes did after she got out of the office and her bubbliness had managed to improve Clarke’s mood a great deal.

 _“So I went on a lunch date today,”_ her friends voice said on the other end of the line.

“Oh, that’s nice. Where did he take you?” Clarke asked, fidgeting with the straps on her handbag.

“ _Not with Lincoln. With his boss, actually.”_

 _Oh._ Octavia had been on a lunch _date_ with _Lexa Woods._ Now that she thought about it, she remembered Lexa offering to take her out this week back at The Arkadia, but Clarke never really thought that she had been serious (not that Lexa probably ever was anything else, really). Her stomach did a somersault and she tried her best to sound calm when she replied.

“That’s great. Where did you go?”

“ _She took me to this salad bar down the street from her office. She was really nice!”_

Octavia sounded like she was going somewhere with that but Clarke couldn’t help feeling a slight tint of jealousy. She had been the one busting her ass for Lexa an entire evening, yet Octavia was the one that was taken out for lunch. Octavia didn’t even appreciate salad.

“Yeah, she is,” she simply responded, trying to sound as indifferent as possible.

“ _She mentioned you, you know,”_ Octavia continued and Clarke could hear the smirk in her voice all the way onto the train but she just couldn’t help herself.

“She did?” she replied far too fast.

Octavia just laughed at her peaked interest and Clarke could feel herself blushing slightly.

“ _Haha, you’re in sooo deep, Clarke. But she said that I should tell you that she landed the Barrow-deal, whatever that is, and that she was really thankful for your help. Please tell me that you didn’t try to woo her by sending George Barrow up her alley.”_

Clarke sighed, of course Octavia had noticed. But what was she supposed to have done?

“I had to do _something,_ O. She was really evasive and then she almost walked away and I offered to help her with her networking. I knew that George had just been hacked so all I did was really to bring two pieces together,” Clarke tried to explain.

“ _Whatever you say, Griff. I’m surprised she even took you up on your sorry excuse for bothering her all night, she doesn’t seem like a woman who enjoys company just for the sake of it. I mean, look at me, I had to sacrifice my dignity just for a lunch.”_

Clarke laughed at her friend. She was just as surprised as anyone, but she couldn’t help the smile that crept up on her face at the fact that Lexa had remembered to thank her.

“ _So what’s your next move?”_ Octavia asked deviously.

“There’s not even going to be a next move, O. I mean, chances are slim that I’ll ever meet her one on one again. And I’m basically her client for at least another year until elections are over so it won’t matter,” Clarke sighed.

This stupid client-thing (that she wasn’t really sure was an issue but sure seemed like it) was the main reason why Clarke hadn’t already reached out to Lexa. She could have asked for her number back at The Arkadia and sent away a text, disguising it as just wanting to check up on how the deals were going and then casually asked her out for lunch. But it wasn’t meant to be and she just had to accept that and move on.

“ _You won’t know that until you try. I mean, you managed to hang around with her for almost two hours last week, that seems like a pretty good start if you’re asking me,”_ Octavia said.

“Well I’m not, O. She’s an interesting person, but I won’t jeopardize my father’s campaign _and_ my reputation by acting on some stupid whim. I’m not even sure that I like her, she just captivates me, that’s all. We should just let this go, I’ll probably find someone new by next week and then it’ll all be over,” Clarke said, and with that the conversation moved on.

For the record, Clarke didn’t let things go. November went past in a blur and before anyone knew any better they were entering December. The Griffin-Kane household was in a light stage of chaos as it had been for the past week. It was a busy month for mayoral candidates, it seemed. Marcus had talked every night about how the giving-season was one of the most important publicity periods and how they all had to be on their A-game to show the people of Washington that he was a man to be loved and trusted. If the polls were anything to go by, he was already doing a decent job, but nothing was certain until election day and that happened to be eleven months away.

Marcus and his party colleagues were throwing a giant fundraiser on the upcoming Friday night and preparations were at its climax. Their staff was doing most of the work, but every night there were family photographs to be taking or interviews to be held halfway across town, or worse, in their home. Clarke, who had managed to be barely more than an enthusiastic supporter in her father’s campaign up until now, had to make more public appearances than she had done in her entire life. And even though she didn’t have a problem with the cameras she was slightly worried what impact they would have on her everyday life. She wasn’t really ready to be confronted about Marcus’ politics at work or while walking down the street. But she loved the man and truly believed that he could do good, so she buckled up and sat down for the ride.

When Clarke came home that evening she was in a fairly good mood. She had been transferred from the ER to pediatrics, a change she was more than excited about. She had always loved children and already knew that pediatric surgery was one of her top candidates when she was going to pick her specialty one day. Her mom was a general surgeon and that had been Clarke’s goal throughout med school as well, but it took her about a day and a half at peds to change her mind. General surgery was still an option, but now she felt like she had two worthy paths to choose between.

Walking down the hallway into the study she found Marcus sitting by his desk, typing away at his laptop.

“How’s it goin’?” she asked, with her best Boston accent.

He turned in his chair to smile at her.

“Hey, baby girl. How’s your day been?” he asked, opening his arms up for a hug.

She walked into his embrace before plopping down on the desk beside him.

“Good, I’m really enjoying peds. How’s the planning for Friday running along?”

“It’s a bit much, I’ll admit. I really want this to fly, not only with the attendants but also with the public, you know? Sometimes it feels so frustrating, like this is not what I signed up for. I’m no good at all this party stuff, I can’t help but feel like I’m in over my head from time to time,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

Clarke felt for him as he sat there in his office suit, looking like he needed a few days worth of sleep and a vacation. Knowing that she couldn’t help him with any of this she opted for a hug instead and buried her face deep in his neck. She always felt safe in his arms, with his strong hands slowly rubbing her back.

“It’s going to be great, dad. I promise. And me and mom will be there to back you up. I’ll charm them all myself if I have to,” she promised.

“I’m sure you will, that’s all you’ve ever done as long as I can remember. I’m lucky to have you and your mom. If I win this, it’ll be all thanks to you.”

Clarke gave him a pat on the back before she walked into the kitchen to grab a snack. Her mom was working the night shift down at her clinic and she wasn’t in the mood for cooking. Settling for an apple and a bag of Doritos she ascended the stairs and walked into her room.

_Dr. Clarkey, 20:14_

_Sup idiots, how are ya?_

_Gyromaniac, 20:15_

_*genius if I may. All’s good here, got my first intern today!!_

_Judge-O, 20:15_

_Poor soul. I’m also good, quiet night with Linc @ his place_

_Gyromaniac, 20:16_

_“quiet”…_

_Dr. Clarkey, 20:17_

_Send the intern my way when you’re done screwing with him_

_Judge-O, 20:18_

_Watched a movie, L fell asleep so all is indeed quiet here._

_Sending him to Clarke might be a good idea. Don’t hurt him too much though, she’s still only an intern after all_

_Dr. Clarkey, 20:18_

_Top intern of my year, if I may. There’s nothing Rae can do to him that I can’t handle_

_Gyromaniac, 20:19_

_You do realize I work @ NASA right? We’ve got all kinds of crazy machines down here, I’m sure I’ll think of something._

_And look at yall being sexist, how do u know it’s a dude?_

_Judge-O, 20:21_

_Because if it had been a girl u would’ve told us about her the second she walked in through the doors, perv_

_Dr. Clarkey, 20:21_

_Second that opinion_

_Gyromaniac, 20:22_

_Not if it had been an ugly girl, I only bother with the hot ones. Speaking of hot ones, I heard Lexa’s coming on Friday_

Clarke dropped the phone on her face. Both Raven, Octavia and their families would come (of course) but that didn’t explain how Raven knew who was on the guest list before she did? Sure, the invitations had been sent out ages ago, but still? 

_Judge-O, 20:26_

_Clarke, u dead?_

_Dr. Clarkey, 20:26_

_No, I’m fine_

_Gyromaniac, 20:27_

_Lol, that’s code for ‘I’m shitting my pants rt now’_

_Dr. Clarkey, 20:28_

_I’m fine!!!!_

_Dr. Clarkey, 20:28_

_How did u know??!_

_Judge-O, 20:29_

_That’s prob on me. I might’ve slipped when we had lunch. Linc told me that she and some other guy from her firm would b there_

_Of course_ Octavia was the one to spill the tea. And _of course_ that was why Lexa would be there. This was her father’s event, and Lexa was her father’s security provider. Clarke could not believe she hadn’t thought of that earlier. Now that she knew however, she felt her heart slowly pick up the pace. She hadn’t seen Lexa for more than a month and she was pretty sure that the brunette would have all but forgotten about her by now. Clarke on the other hand still managed to catch the other woman in her mind more than once a day and she was slowly going mad. She knew that she had no business thinking about Lexa like that, and she also knew that the longer she allowed this to go on the worse it would be when she had to let it go. Lexa could have a boyfriend for all that she knew, and even if she was single, she probably wouldn’t be interested in someone like Clarke.

Clarke, whose brain still didn’t even know if she was interested in Lexa (at least not in the way her heart rate implied). But that didn’t help the fact that she couldn’t seem to move on from her. Groaning in frustration she decided to call it a night. Annoyingly brushing her teeth and changing into her pajamas, she went to bed. Friday would be one day closer when she woke up, and that filled her with both dread and joy.

When Clarke stepped out of the hospital just before lunch on said Friday she was on the verge of collapsing. She had just finished a marathon-shift (because her employers didn’t give a crap about fundraisers) and now had about three hours to catch some sleep and get ready for tonight. She barely made it onto the bus, and as her numb legs carried her up the stairs to the front door she was just about to say screw it to this entire evening, possibly to her entire existence. Her parents weren’t home, they had already gone to oversee the preparations, and Clarke looped through the kitchen to get an apple before crashing down hard on the living room sofa. Mindlessly zapping between channels while taking sloppy bites from the green fruit she knew that she did not, like _really_ not, have time for this but she lacked the motivation to do anything _but_ waste her time at the moment.

She had attended a million galas and fundraisers in her life, she knew how to charm the guests like the back of her hand and she was pretty sure that she could convince most of them to sell their mother’s soul if she just hustled enough. This would be no different, as a matter of fact it would be easier. It was just a party, no auctions would be held, no contacts had to be made and no networks expanded. She already knew everyone, or at least she would recognize them, and if they had done their research properly they would recognize her as well.

While groaning like a small dinosaur, Clarke forced herself to swing her legs over the edge of the sofa and sit up. Cracking her neck from side to side she walked up the stairs to her room and headed straight for the door in the far-right corner. Swinging it wide open she let her eyes roam over the shelves of her closet for something, _anything really,_ to wear tonight. She knew that decent people like Raven or her mother and maybe even Octavia would have thought that through a long time ago. Maybe borrowed something nice to avoid getting caught in an outfit that someone (read: the magazines) had seen before. Laid out their outfit with matching shoes and jewelry on their bed before taking a nice, calming shower. Called their make-up artist and hairdresser. Clarke had done all those things many, many times before, but today she had fallen short. Short on time, energy and motivation. Short on all of those things she used to have in abundance just a year ago.

Scratching the back of her neck (she was turning into a blonde Marcus) she walked over to where her dresses hung from a bar a little higher than she would have chosen herself. Sliding her hands over the different fabrics she slowly puzzled together outfits for each and every one of them. Weighing pros and cons, hoping that she would feel that buzz in her gut that told her that she had found _the one._ It never came. Growling in frustration she checked the time – she had just over an hour and a half before a driver would pick her up. It was barely enough time to do hair and make-up properly, let alone shower and get dressed _as well_ as picking out a dress.

Just as she was about to swallow her pride and call Octavia, who would most certainly yell at her for being so last minute (ironic, huh?) something caught her eye. In her peripheral vision was a green piece that she had all but forgotten about. She must have bought it years ago, maybe in Boston, and then it had just ended up her to collect dust and take up space. It was a kelly green that reached just above her knees. Long sleeved but off shoulder, it folded over just under her shoulders and left her neck and collar bones bare. It was just right. Quickly walking to the other side of her closet to grab a pair of dark, moss green pumps that had seemed like a stupid purchase until now and a simple gold chain to hang around her neck she almost smirked – maybe this would all work out fine after all?

A while later she was putting in the last efforts on her lipstick with fifteen minutes to go. She had found her rhythm after finding that dress, and all of a sudden she had showered, dressed and done her hair in forty five minutes, which was almost less than it took her before work. Her wavy hair had been totally straightened out, her make-up was humble but defined and she had focused on making her eyes stand out - they were her best feature after all. She picked out a small purse, put on the necklace and slipped into her shoes before descending the stairs. _Shame that no one’s watching,_ she mused to herself. It was December, and even though there was not hardly enough snow for her to be satisfied, the street was lit up by the white on the ground (and the holiday decorations, mind you). Not wanting to freeze to death she grabbed her black coat from the hanger. Even though it wasn’t really party apparel it looked professional, and she wouldn’t wear it inside anyway.

It was approaching 3:15 in the afternoon and, punctual as ever, there was a polite knock on the front door. Clarke gave herself one last look in the mirror before answering the door to two young men in suits. One of them she recognized as one of her father’s usual drivers, the other one looked like security. _Wonder if he’s one of Lexa’s?,_ she thought while giving him a quick onceover. Parking that thought in the back of her head she turned to the driver and gave him an earnest smile. He graciously pointed toward the black sedan that stood on the driveway and Clarke happily jumped in, grateful that he had parked there and not on the street so that she didn’t have to slide all the way down there in her heels.

Sitting alone in the backseat she listened to the Christmas tunes that played quietly on the radio. She loved Christmas, even if it was with a more mellow glow now compared to the raging fire of her youth. She hadn’t really considered it before, but triumphantly deduced that the colour of her dress was really fitting for the occasion. She was starting to get excited about this evening for the first time, and visions of ornaments and Christmas trees and fake snow filled her mind. Octavia would be over the moon, she was as excited over Christmas as she was over anything else really, and even Raven would occasionally allow herself to get a bit soft and sentimental after a few eggnogs.

_I wonder if Lexa is a Christmas person? Wonder how she decorates her home? Does she celebrate alone? Maybe she doesn’t celebrate Christmas at all?_

Forcibly and physically shaking another stampede of Lexa-thoughts out of her head she tried to ground herself by looking out the window. Driving through the city she counted decorations and memorized the craziest ones so that she could tell her friends about them later. After what seemed like an eternity they finally pulled up in front of a huge building. It was a hotel, as usual, that she had never stayed at but still been to multiple times for reasons similar to today. As she stepped out of the car she hardly noticed how the suit-clad man silently slipped in behind her, she was so focused on breathing in the crisp winter air and getting herself in the right headspace for the evening.

In fact, she hardly noticed anything at all about her surroundings as she walked up to the entrance and to the door. She wouldn’t remember thanking the bellhop that opened it for her, or the one that took her coat. Even if she didn’t know it then and there, she would remember almost nothing of what transpired in between getting out of the car and walking into the great dining hall. Nothing about the merry greetings from her father or the decoration discussions with her mother. Nothing from discussing the guest list with her father’s campaign leader, Callie. As a matter of fact, she would only remember one thing.

When she turned around to look at something Callie pointed at, she saw her. She was ordering a couple of bellhops around while typing hard on her phone. Clarke could see her rolling her eyes at their supposed foolishness and shake her head before turning around. She knew that it would have been better to look away, but she had thought about those eyes constantly for almost two months now, she couldn’t have done it even if she had tried. So, she held her gaze steady and caught emerald eyes by surprise. She fought like a soldier to keep her composure. She felt safe and scared, happy and devastated, all at the same time. Those damn eyes, greener than a sea of grass and deeper than the freaking Amazonas. And if she for a moment had doubted whether she felt anything for this woman she was sure now. She had no idea how it had happened, or why, but it felt _right._

And just as fast as that life changing moment had arrived, it was over. Callie, completely oblivious to Clarke’s inner turmoil, called her name to get her attention back and before she could do anything to stop it, Lexa had given her a clipped smile and disappeared.

After that, the rollercoaster of emotions that was Clarke’s day quickly made a dive into the deep again. With the insight of her feelings hitting her like a rock she felt somewhere between sick to her stomach and ready to die. She was falling for Lexa. For Lexa goddamn Woods. Her father’s security provider. _Her_ security provider. Not her bodyguard, because that happened to people like herself all the time, but the person who _hired_ her bodyguards. A key person in the success of her father’s campaign. A person that seemed to be not only immune but _hostile_ to any of her charm. A woman she had met _only once before and what was going on?!_ This was not supposed to happen, not in a million years. And she knew that if she looked back at her behavior these past months, if she actually took her time to analyze her feelings, it would become clear as day. She knew that Octavia and Raven would only say “I told you so”, but it still came as a chock.

The fact that Lexa, once again, was avoiding her wasn’t helping either. Or, let’s be real - she wasn’t sure that she was actually being avoided – but since their short moment earlier she had been nowhere to be seen. Clarke had tried (and succeeded) to keep herself occupied by making sure that the venue was ready to go before the guests started to show and before anyone knew it, the big clock on the wall struck six. Guests would be arriving from now on and Clarke and Abby took one last look at the room before taking a deep breath.

“Good job, honey. This looks like a dream,” Abby said, squeezing her hand.

Marcus walked over to them and draped one arm over each’s shoulder.

“What would I do without my ladies, huh? Now, let’s brush up on our smiles, give it all we’ve got and then enjoy a well-deserved holiday,” he said, pulling them both close.

The sound of holiday was music to Clarke’s ears, and for a moment she let herself imagine just that as she leaned into Marcus’ shoulder. Her escape from reality was cut short however, by the all-business tone of a familiar voice.

“Now, Mr. and Mrs. Griffin-Kane, we’ve been through this once already but let’s go over it again just for the sake of it: we’ve got guys by every entrance and exit throughout the building, cameras have been checked just an hour ago and all angles have been perfected. There are metal detectors, if need be, by the main entrance and all the staff have been back-checked and vetted. If there’s a problem, any problem at all, you let me know. If any of my guys or myself for that matter tells you to go or do anything, do it immediately…”

Lexa was scrolling on an iPad as she spoke, and Clarke was pretty sure that she hadn’t noticed her yet. It gave the blonde some well-needed time to regroup from the near heart attack she was having, and when the other woman actually did look up to see her Clarke secretly took great pride in the fact that Lexa for a moment looked more terrified than herself.

“… and if you have any questions or complaints, please let me know.”

Her voice trailed off and left her with her mouth slightly open. For the second time this evening, the two of them were alone in the universe. Clarke felt her pulse pick up again, and all she heard was the frantic beating of her own heart ringing through her ears. It was impossible to read Lexa’s features, but she felt _something_ , that was apparent by the way her green eyes sparkled. Or maybe that was just her own imagination talking?

Just as last time, Lexa broke the moment before it had almost begun and before any of Clarke’s parents noticed anything.

“Ms. Griffin, my apologies, I didn’t see you there. All the previously mentioned parts obviously apply to you as well,” Lexa said politely.

Clarke didn’t know how to respond other than with a smile and a nod, so that’s what she did. Lexa raised a carefully plucked eyebrow before mirroring Clarke’s response and taking off. Clarke could feel the shift in the air when she passed her by, if she would have moved just half an inch they would have touched and that would have been enough. But she didn’t, because she couldn’t.

The evening sailed on like a ship on fine waters with a strong headwind. Clarke gently flowed between guests and other co-hosts. She discussed politics with Marcus’ staff and his colleagues, she discussed medicine with her mother’s and she spilled good ole gossip with the rest of them. Every once in a while, she listened to old men bragging about their companies and accomplishments or old women bragging about their children (the opposite was rather unusual). Raven and Octavia had her sides her like they always did, steering her in the right direction and fending off unwanted attention, but with steady intervals they had to double back to their families and represent for a while.

All in all, it was an enjoyable night. The drinks were good, the food, constantly carried around on big platters by small waiters, tasted amazing and the live band that played a good mix between holiday tunes and old soul-hits delivered like they had always done in the fifteen years that the Griffin-Kane’s had hired them. Clarke was having a good time, except that she wasn’t. More than not she found herself scanning the crowd for a familiar pair of green eyes or that brown hair. Sometimes she succeeded, sometimes not. Once or twice she even managed to get eye contact, only to have it broken a moment later.

After losing Lexa to the crowd once more she let began losing all hope for salvation and let out a heavy sigh.

“Hey, what’s up? You’ve been all on and off night,” Raven asked.

“It’s nothing, I’m good. I just have a lot on my mind right now. It gets to me occasionally but it’s no biggie,” she said diffusely, not wanting to lie but also not give away too much.

“What stuff?” Octavia asked.

She had been fidgeting all night. Being in the same room as her boyfriend without being able to actually be with him was proving a challenge for the feisty brunette. _I know exactly how you feel,_ Clarke thought.

“Just stuff, it’s been a bit much lately. I’m just tired, you know. I think I’ll head out on the balcony for some air – see you in a bit,” she said, smilingly walking away from her friends.

She knew that she could, and probably should, tell them, but it had been a long time since Clarke even felt a fraction of what she was feeling right now for anyone. She really didn’t want to make her imminent heartbreak worse than it would already be. For now she would settle for a breather on the balcony, and then she would go back in with her A-game on. Walking out in the cold December air she headed to the right side of the large space for some privacy. Small groups and couples were already out there, having a smoke or talking in hushed voices. Leaning against the railing she wrapped her arms around her to keep warm as she took in the lights and sounds of the city. It always helped her to ground herself, a reminder that even if her problems seemed large and unapproachable right now, she was just a small part of something so much bigger.

Lost in thought she almost jumped when she felt and heard a presence beside her.

“I brought you a drink.”

Clarke almost wanted to laugh. Not a ‘hello, how are you?’ or even a ‘what’s up’. But she would lie if she said that she didn’t find a certain charm in it. And she would lie if she said that she didn’t almost faint at the notion that Lexa Woods had walked out into the cold, with a drink, just for her.

xxx

Lexa almost thought that Clarke hadn’t heard her. The blonde stood still against the railing on the balcony (in the freezing December night) and didn’t move until Lexa was about to repeat herself.

“What is it?”

Lexa cocked an eyebrow. It would have been an almost rude question if not for the fact that Clarke seemed to struggle a bit. The words were clipped, as if she had wanted to say much more and much louder but had to contain herself. Worth mentioning was that Lexa's introduction also lacked a bit in the aspect of manners. She had planned a whole bunch of things to start up a conversation with, but every time Clarke had looked at her she had felt her heart in her throat and looked away. After chickening out one time too many she had decided to just take the bull by the horns and forego any unnecessary niceties. Instead she had just grabbed a glass and followed Clarke out on the balcony with it, and now she was praying that she wouldn’t regret that decision.

“It’s a cinnamon and apple daquiri. You seem like a holiday-person, and I hate eggnog,” she stated simply, holding out the drink to Clarke.

The blonde laughed, a deep, slightly raspy sound but filled with so much emotion. Lexa rarely laughed, it didn’t really come naturally to her, and therefore she usually found laughing annoying. But not this one - she liked this one. Clarke turned to face her, those blue eyes were perfectly accentuated with long lashes and dark tones. Lexa steeled herself not to drown in them and instead tried a small smile. It took Clarke a moment, she seemed almost a bit dazed, but she finally smiled back and grabbed the drink from Lexa’s hand. Taking it to her lips, without breaking eye contact, she took a sip and smacked her lips gently.

“Why, Ms. Woods, you do make excellent choices tonight. This was really good!” Clarke smiled to the brunette.

Lexa felt her chest ease up at this, at least she had done _something_ right.

“Glad you like it. I saw you walking out here and figured that you would need some extra warmth,” she said, realizing what that sounded like far too late.

This time it was Clarke’s eyebrows that shot up, first in pure surprise and then as an addition to the growing smirk on her lips. Lexa successfully fought a blush (Lexa Woods did _not_ blush) and instead tried to roll her eyes in an unimpressed manner. It only worked halfway though, because the completely unapologetic look on the blonde’s face finally made her laugh at her own predicament.

“Feel free to interpret that anyway you like, Ms. Griffin, however I purely meant the drink and nothing else,” she jested with a light slap to the other woman’s arm.

Clarke’s gaze snapped to the point of impact before drifting to her feet. Her usual bubbly demeanor was replaced with careful attentivity and Lexa sensed that she would have to commandeer any conversation herself. She took a moment to take in the girl before her: a modest yet classy dress, velvety pumps, bare shoulders that made Lexa’s eyes linger a little too long.

“I like you dress, it suits you really well,” she said, almost stumbling over the last words.

“Thanks, I had forgotten all about it, but I figured it fit the theme of the evening,” Clarke said, looking down and straightening out an imaginary wrinkle on her thigh.

This was not going great. What was she even going for here? Was she flirting, or was she just trying to make conversation? The blonde intrigued her, that had been established a long time ago. She wanted to know things about her, like which was her favourite season? Beer or wine? Italian or sushi? Girls or boys, or maybe both? That last question lingered in her mind. It occurred to her that she had no idea, and the more she thought about it the more she realized that Clarke seemed straighter than a line. She even remembered reading something about an ex-boyfriend. _That doesn’t mean anything though, maybe she swings both ways just like you,_ the voice in her head whispered.

Just as she almost had decided to give up and bid the younger girl goodbye, she caught Clarke’s eyes. The blonde features were twisted in a frown, and she opened and closed her mouth a couple of times like she fought an internal battle. Lexa’s eyebrows knitted together as she tried to decipher the situation.

“Clarke, are you alright?” she tried.

The blonde shook her head and gave out a frustrated laugh. If Lexa hadn’t been confused before, she sure was now.

“Why does everyone ask me that?” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

“For starters: you’re out on a balcony in the middle of winter, on you own, staring off in the distance. Secondly: you’ve barely spoken to me which isn’t very much like you…”  
“ _I’m sorry_ – I haven’t spoken to you? You’re the one who’s been avoiding me all night!” Clarke cut her off.

Lexa’s jaw fell open. Was that what this was about? She had already confessed to herself about being a bit of a dick when it came to the eye contact, but it wasn’t like Clarke had actually approached her or anything.

“Okay, so I was talking about right now – but avoiding you? I’ve been doing no such thing, Clarke! I’m working, I haven’t exactly had the time to socialize,” she tried to explain herself.

“ _Don’t_ patronize me. Every time I’ve looked at you, you either look or walk away and every time I’m entering a twenty feet radius you run like the plague’s come to town!” Clarke cut her off.

The blonde huffed loudly from her nose before turning and walking over to the railing. Running one hand through perfectly straightened ash blonde tresses and holding on to her glass with the other, she stared up on the sky for a moment. Lexa wanted to say something to explain herself, but she didn’t know what or how. Instead she just waited.

“I’m sorry, I have no right to demand your attention. It really shouldn’t bother me like this and I promise that it won’t happen again, but I really had a good time that last time and I guess I just…”  
“You distract me.”

The words escaped Lexa’s lips before she had a chance to weigh their consequence and effectively cut Clarke off. As the blonde turned towards her with her eyebrows arched, she knew that it was now or never if she wanted to get the words out. If she got lost in those blue orbs again she would most likely freak out and run for the hills, putting an end to anything that might grow between them.

“You’re talkative. You’re charming. You laugh and joke and do all these things that I normally don’t, and when you do them I do them too, and it feels… okay. Still really out of character, but not dangerously so. And the way you talk makes me listen to _only_ you, not the world around me, and for someone like me that’s amazing but also very risky. Because it _is_ dangerous for me to laugh. When I look at you I’m not looking at everything else. And if I lose focus that might mean someone’s life’s suddenly in danger. So yes, I might turn away from you, I might look the other way. But it’s not because you offend me in any way. It’s because I’ve signed a paper that says that I’m going to protect you and your family along with each and every one in this hotel tonight. And you distract me.”

Once she had started, the words flowed out of her like a river. She held her gaze steady and locked onto Clarke’s own. The blonde had now turned fully around and faced her with a surprised look on her face. After Lexa had finished she seemed deep in thought for a moment and she began to wonder if she maybe had pushed the limits a tad too far. But soon the younger woman gazed back up with a small smile on her lips.

“So… can I have your number then?” she asked carefully.

Lexa was dumb folded. Had Clarke not heard a single word she just said?

“What?”

“Well… you can’t talk to me while you’re working because I distract you. That means that we’ll have to meet when you’re _not_ working. I need your number so that we can decide when and where,” Clarke explained like it was the most natural thing in the world.

This girl was unbelievable. Lexa knew that she had probably gotten most of the things she had ever asked for in her life, but that didn’t leave her unable to work for what she wanted. And damn, she was _cheeky._ Putting one hand on her forehead and closing her eyes, she finally gave in and opened them to a pair of blue ones waiting eagerly. Without a word she fished her phone out of her purse, unlocked it and handed it to Clarke. The blonde smiled triumphantly and typed in a few short commands before handing it back.

“Well then, allow me to allow you to get back to your work, Ms. Woods!” she said lazily before walking past Lexa and back into the hall, brushing their shoulders lightly in the process.

Before following suit, Lexa took a moment to herself and breathed in the crisp air. _This girl is going to be the death of me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha f*ck me. Originally planned for this to take place in probably a dozen cities _but_ Washington DC, and realized after I had posted this (the third!!!) chapter that I ended up choosing the one god-forgotten place in America that does NOT have any representation in the senate -> there goes my fine idea with Markus' entire point of existence out the window. Oh well, I've made a make-shift solution because what DC actually has is delegates so that's what he will (hopefully) become. It's not the same thing, but it'll have to do. If I ever call him anything senate-related from now on - please remind me! 
> 
> Now I'm going to have a beer, move on and try not to make any more stupid, last minute changes. Cheerio!
> 
> Edit: I made one. He's running for mayor instead, because its fiction and I can do whatever I feel like. Ceeri-fucking-ho.


	4. Coffee?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so there's a lot of action in this one, but I felt like getting things going. Basically just an entire chapter of them getting into trouble.

Lexa rubbed her temples slowly and deliberately in a futile effort to relive the intense headache she had felt since waking up that morning. Lianne La Havas played softly in her airpods and that was about the only thing that was good in her life right now. She had produced about two percent of the complete report that she had to write about yesterday’s event. Even if nothing had gone wrong, everything that had transpired had to be filed for future reference. Maybe it was a bit over the top, but they were one of the best agencies out there after all.

Her phone buzzed. She knew that she should ignore it and try to focus, she wanted to, but she found her hand slipping into the pocket of her slacks anyway.

 _D. Straction, 11:32  
_ _What’s up?_

It took her a split second to realize who the number belonged to. _Very funny,_ she thought dryly. Clarke Griffin was apparently here to occupy not only her professional life but also her private one, and she wasn’t sure what she thought about that.

 _Lexa Woods, 11:33  
_ _Working._

She placed her phone with the display down on her desk and reached for her keyboard. Managing to write down another three and a half sentences she sighed deeply before resting her head in her hands for a minute. She was being an ass to Clarke and she sure knew it. But she couldn’t handle feelings, never had and never would, and Clarke made her feel a hundred things at once. But she had a real shot here, the blonde had asked for _her_ number and texted her less than twenty-four hours later. It was an open goal really, and commitment issues aside she figured that it had never hurt anyone to be nice, especially to important clients. Emphasis on the _client_ -part.

 _Lexa Woods, 11:36  
_ _Sorry, didn’t mean to snap. Getting nothing done and it’s stressing me out. How’s your day?_

A knot formed in her stomach as she typed. What if Clarke had decided that she had enough with Lexa’s indifference and just deleted her number? She was pretty sure that she would have given up on herself ages ago if she could’ve. But the blonde didn’t let her down, and a reply came almost instantly.

 _D. Straction, 11:37  
_ _No worries. What are u working on? I’m interning at ped’s surgery rt now and I really like it here, still tired after yesterday tho haha_

Lexa smiled at her phone. Somehow it was really easy imagining Clarke being happy around children. 

_Lexa Woods, 11:39  
_ _Glad you’re in a good place! Working on some reports, can’t really tell you more than that. Confidential._

Lexa felt courageous all of a sudden and added a winking smiley at the end of that text. She also decided that even though the wordplay on “distraction” was charming, she really needed to change Clarke’s name.

  
 _Clarke Griffin, 11:40  
_ _Ohhh, love the secret agent vibes_

_Just got paged, gtg!! Mind if I text u back tonight?_

Lexa forced her smile to not grow too wide. The combination between the really bad texting language, the underlying tones of humor and the fact that she actually asked for permission to text her made Lexa feel something deep inside that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to turn the blonde down, even though her instincts screamed all kinds of profanities and she knew she probably should.

 _Lexa Woods, 11:42  
_ _I’ll hold you to that._

The hours dragged by and before she knew it she found her flow again. She carefully tried to remember every detail and quirk about the heavily decorated hall, she noted down observations on all the guests she had talked to and she constructed timelines and chain-of-events. Every once in a while she went over to Lincoln or Nyko to confirm something, but most of the day she spent hurled up in her office. She tried to channel all her energy into her work, but as the time went she felt her mind start to wonder about that promised text.

It was well past seven now, wasn’t this what ordinary people called evening? But Clarke was a medical intern, their schedule probably didn’t qualify among what could be called the ‘normal ones’. Lazily checking her phone just to be sure she hadn’t missed anything she reached to put it back in her pocket when it buzzed. _Speaking of the devil,_ she thought.

 _Clarke Griffin, 19:47  
_ _Hey, I'm back haha_

_What are u doing?_

_Lexa Woods, 19:48  
_ _Still working, as you can see my focus is on point today. You?_

Maybe she should’ve played it cool and waited a minute or two before replying - she didn’t want to come off as too eager. But who was she trying to fool, really?

 _Clarke Griffin, 19:49  
_ _Haha, I’m not judging, promise. Omw home. Glad u replied fast tho, hate going home alone at this time_

So, there wasn't really a way around this: Lexa was, underneath the make-up and fancy clothes, a pitbull. She protected her own, always, both when she absolutely had to and admittedly also, occasionally, just for good measure. It hadn't got anything to do with the marine-thing, she had gotten her ass handed to her multiple times in her childhood neighborhood as well. There was the time she had been chased down two blocks and three back alleys for telling Kelly Robinson's older brother to stop pushing her friends off the swingsets. There was also the time she had nursed a busted lip and _two_ black eyes for calling out a rivaling soccer-team for harassing her freshmen at an after party. Eventually, she had learned how to fight back, but most importantly: she had learned that sometimes it's just for the best to gather your group and walk away. Regardless, a text like that made her quietly clench her fist.

 _Lexa Woods, 19:50  
_ _Anything bothering you?_

 _Clarke Griffin, 19:50  
_ _Nah, no more than usual. There’s just this asshole on the bus that won’t stop talking to me but I’ll get rid of him at the transfer so I’m cool_

 _Fuck._ She typed out an 'okay, be careful!', changed her mind, put the phone down on her desk, fidgeted with the marker in her hand, turned the phone upside-down and wrote half a sentence on her report before letting out a frustrating grunt. She didn't believe in destiny, or fate, or anything that implied that a person was not one hundred percent in control over their own life. But she would be damned if this wasn't some divine dickhead of a force that had decided to come and mess with her. Clarke would be fine, she _knew_ that. Well, at least if she disregarded the growing number of reported assaults downtown. She didn't even know the girl? This wasn't her responsibility? And if she really _had_ to do something, couldn't she just call someone else? She really didn't want to come off as overbearing or hysterical. _Who are you trying to fool, Lexa?_

 _Lexa Woods, 19:52  
_ _What station?_

 _Clarke Griffin, 19:52  
_ _Dupont. Why?_

Apparently, it took Clarke all but three seconds to figure out Lexa’s line of thought.

 _Clarke Griffin, 19:52  
_ _Lexa. No_

Lexa chuckled at her phone as she finished packing up and stressed out of her office. Even though she was tired she felt like she had a purpose for the first time today, something to take care of, and it helped clear her head a bit. She was probably overreacting, but she wasn't getting anything done here anyways, and what kind of security provider would she be if she sat this out, right? Besides, it was far too late to back down now.

 _Lexa Woods, 19:54  
_ _I’m getting into my car in 2min, I’ll be with you in no time. Wait by the entrance until I text you. And don’t talk to him. Or anyone else for that matter._

 _Clarke Griffin, 19:54  
_ _I really really do not need u to do this. It’s gonna be fine_

 _Lexa Woods, 19:55  
_ _I know, but I'm doing it anyway. I’ll be driving so I can’t text, but call me if anything changes_

xxx

Clarke Griffin was losing her cool, quick and hard. She resisted the urge to turn to the guy that had been constantly chatting her up for seven minutes now and tell him what a mess he had created, but that would probably be a dumb move. She had forgotten about the fact that Lexa Woods - the same Lexa that she had gathered all her courage to text earlier and who had almost caused her to inject herself with a lethal dose of whatever with the coldest first-reply ever - had a job. A job that was keeping sorry asses like herself out of trouble. So, when she had told that same Lexa Woods about the stupid bus-guy, the brunette had jumped into her car and was now on her way to save her. She had turned into an urban damsel in distress, and Lexa was her knight in shining armor. Well, _fuck_.

Clarke felt a mixture between embarrassment and uncontrollable giddiness (she was going into Lexa’s car, after all) as she got off the bus and patiently took a seat on a bench. She tried her best not to fidget. She also tried her best to ignore the asshole that had followed her out of the vehicle and taken a seat on the bench next to hers. Maybe Lexa hadn’t been so over the top after all. 

_Lexa Woods, 20:06  
_ _Is he still there?_

 _Clarke Griffin, 20:06  
_ _Yeah. Persistent, this one_

 _Lexa Woods, 20:07  
_ _Stay where you are._

Clarke frowned at the screen. She rather felt like getting out of there, preferably sooner than later, and Lexa telling her to stay put wasn’t really what she wanted to hear. But she did as she was told, and paused the music in her ears to keep better track of the world around her. The man was mostly begging her to listen, in between telling her various not-so-believable facts about himself and different kinds of name-calling when she still didn’t flinch. She was fairly used to it, but that didn't stop her heart from racing and her jaw from flexing. The slight pang of stress induced nausea.

It had been a chock when she had moved to Boston and left her sheltered upbringing for the first time. Sure, there had been a few incidents like this while she was still living in Washington, but they had been scarce and easy to falsely blame on a certain place or circumstance. It didn’t take her very long to realize that it didn’t have anything to do with those things at all. All kinds of men catcalled. A married dad of three would grab her ass on the train if it was crammed enough for it to go ‘unnoticed’. Teachers, mechanics, doctors, it just didn’t matter.

"I'm actually really rich, you know. It might not show but I've got a million dollars on my bank account."

She knew that she wasn't supposed to react to anything he said, but she couldn't help but snort quietly. Why did they always pull the money-card? Did it actually ever work? Would any girl out there, no matter how desperate, believe that a man in stained cargo pants who rode the bus late at night, talking to strangers, had a million bucks? And even if they did believe it, would anyone actually follow? 

  
“Why are you ignoring me, bitch?!"

She was pretty sure that he was either drunk or insane, possibly both. She would have pitied him, except that she didn't. He raised his voice at her, saliva flying through gritted teeth, and Clarke decided that enough was enough. Fishing her phone from her pocket, she got on her feet and turned away from him. She didn't run, but she didn't exactly linger around for more either.

"Yeah, that’s right! Now you’re listening! You’re not that fucking fancy when it comes down to it, are you?"

 _If you only knew,_ she grumbled in her head while biting down on her lip. She didn't turn around to see if he was following her, she didn't have to, the fact that the voice wasn't fading was evidence enough.

"You’re just a dumb whore, like every other girl in this town, aren’t you?”

Eloquent. Really charming. Nothing like drawing the W-card every time someone won't talk to you. She wasn't trying to hide it anymore, she was slowly but steadily freaking out. Lexa was close, she would probably be here in mere seconds, but right now she didn't feel like that was enough. Looking down at her phone, she scrolled through her contacts until she found the brunette and hit the call button. 

Two signals went by before she heard someone call out from a distance.

"Hey! You need to turn around and leave."

She took a deep breath of relief as she turned around to look at the approaching woman, whom in turn directed all her attention at the man following her. A distinct click from her heels could be heard over the deep traffic noice as she walked up to stand in front of him.

"I'm not going to ask you again. Ditch the bottle, stop riding the bus looking for cute girls who'll never love you back and do something productive with your life. Now _go_."

The man wobbled slightly on his feet (yup, definitely a drunk) and turned defiantly toward the brunette. 

"And who's going to stop me? _You_?" he slurred.

Lexa shook her head and chuckled, she was clearly not bothered by his threats in the slightest. Instead she left him standing there and steered her steps toward Clarke. She was smiling, which Clarke thought a bit odd, but as she got closer she could see the tension in Lexa's jaw. This was a game, and Lexa was the master of it. 

“Ignore him. My car is just a short walk away, on 20th and Massachusetts. Take my arm and don’t look back.”

Clarke once again did as she was told and looped her arm through Lexa’s. The brunette led her away from the bus stop in a quick pace, and Clarke once again listened to the sound of her heels against the pavement. It was soothing in a way, and it occurred to her that she didn’t feel even a hint of fear as they walked. Rather irrational, given the fact that she had just been publicly screamed at by a mad man in public. She wanted to say something funny to lighten the mood and manifest that she was okay now, but the woman beside her kept them moving in such a focused way that she figured that it could wait until they were inside the car.

Parked in front of what looked like a workshop stood a new dark navy BMW sedan that distinctly stood out from the rest. Lexa reached into her pocket with her free arm and unlocked it before walking Clarke over to the passenger side and opening the door. Clarke smiled and jumped in and Lexa swiftly doubled back and jumped into the driver’s seat. They sat in silence for a second before the other woman spoke up.

“I’m sorry for taking so long. I hope you’re okay,” she said through her teeth, not looking at Clarke and fixing her gaze on something in front of them.

“I’m fine, I promise. I’m sorry that you had to do this though, but it seems like I really did need your help after all,” Clarke said, smiling carefully at the woman next to her.

Lexa tapped her finger on the steering wheel for almost another minute before turning on the car. There was an icy vibe radiating from her, but it was near impossible to decipher what was going on behind the smooth facade. After the engine had ignited she took a deep breath and backed out of the parking lot.

They drove for a minute or two in silence, Clarke noticed that her home address was typed into the GPS and wondered for a moment how that had happened. Then she realized that Lexa probably knew that plus a lot more about her and her family from all the documents she had been reading. It was slightly unsettling, to sit next to someone who probably could recite your life story like a commuter can with a timetable, whilst she had to struggle to come up with a single bit of personal information about Lexa (except that she _hadn't_ gone to college prep). Even more unsettling was it that Clarke had no idea about _what_ she knew. Did she know her favourite restaurant? Her hobbies? That she liked to paint? Ex-boyfriends? That time she failed her history exam in seventh grade? She was brought out of her thoughts by what was quickly becoming her favourite voice.

“Does this happen a lot?”

Clarke fidgeted with the hem of her arm, not really knowing what to say.

“Define a lot…?”

It was met with a demonstrative eye roll and a heavy sigh.

“How do you feel about a security detail, Clarke?” Lexa asked.

“You mean like a bodyguard?” Clarke said, eyes shooting wide open.

She would _not under any circumstances_ agree to being babysat everyday throughout the whole upcoming year. I didn’t matter that it was her asking this time and not Marcus.

“Yeah, I guess you can call them that,” Lexa said matter-of-factly.

“Maybe when hell freezes over,” Clarke hissed back with a fake smile.

Lexa shot her an unapproving glance at that, and Clarke at least had the decency to look bashful.

“I’m not joking, Clarke. What happened today is serious, and it’s my job to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“I know it’s serious, and I’m thankful for what you did. But I won’t agree to that, I’m sorry. I would go nuts.”

“I’d rather have you nuts than dead,” Lexa deadpanned.

Clarke sighed and turned to look out of the window. This was not what she wanted to talk about on her first one-on-one-time with Lexa. But she also knew that the brunette was not going to let this one go without a fight.

“What about a driver?” she asked.

Lexa frowned. Not in a bad way, but her brow kind of creased together in a thoughtful but yet curious manner.

“What about it?”

“Well, you could arrange for a driver to pick me up and take me to and from work. That would keep me out of trouble without violating my personal space too much, right?” she tried.

Lexa seemed to weigh her options carefully for a few seconds before answering.

“Fine. A driver it is then. I’ll talk it through with your father first thing in the morning, and if you ever dream of cheating the system I will personally track you down and drive you myself.”

Clarke rolled her eyes at the dramatics, but it was as good of a deal that she was going to get and she was well aware of that.

“Tempting. I mean, for someone who spends most of her time in an office you make a pretty decent knight in shining armour,” she smirked.

For a moment, she was sure that she had put Lexa right on the spot. Her happiness was short lived though, the brunette had apparently been brushing up on her comebacks.

“Only decent? I made it from my office to your side in fourteen minutes, saved you from a monster and now I’m giving you a ride home in a car worth more than you medical training. I’d call that a pretty good deal, and I’m not even getting paid for it,” Lexa replied, still not turning around but with a hint of a devilish grin on her lips.

“You want a reward? I’ll give you whatever you want,” Clarke said, letting her eyes burn a hole in Lexa’s profile.

She knew what it sounded like. She knew that it was a bold move. But she had waited long enough, standing idly by and waiting for the universe to do something about herself and the woman to her left (no, she wasn't a very patient person). It was time that she took matters into her own hands, and if that meant putting some pressure then so be it. She almost choked on air when Lexa bit down on her lower lip. The brunette stayed quiet for a moment while running her right hand through hair. Then she turned and looked Clarke square in the eyes for a split second before returning her focus to the road in front of her.

Clarke lost all perception of reality when those green eyes seemed to look right through flesh and bones and pierce her soul. They held such intensity and depth even in the dark, and Clarke suddenly realized why she had picked out that particular dress yesterday. Not because it was ‘festive’, but because it matched the exact colour of Lexa’s eyes.

“How about you buy me a cup of coffee someday?”

When the brunette’s reply came it was quiet and hoarse, and Clarke could smell the lie from a mile away. Maybe, _maybe,_ Lexa also felt whatever it was Clarke felt between them. Because Clarke couldn’t shake the feeling that she had wanted to say something so much more. Maybe all hope was not lost. But she didn’t want to push, so she let it pass just this once.

“A cup of coffee it is then! Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there,” Clarke said.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. When they arrived outside Clarke’s home Lexa killed the engine and pulled over on the street.

“Look, about what happened tonight: I won’t tell your parents if you don’t want me to. I get it if you don’t want to worry them, and since I found out through you texting me on my personal number I’m technically not obliged to do anything. I’ll tell your father that the driver-thing is due to increased crime rate in the area and that won’t even be a lie,” Lexa said, keeping her eyes fixed on the windows of the Griffin-Kane house.

 _Probably not wanting to be seen,_ Clarke thought.

“I appreciate that, Lexa. And I really appreciate what you did for me today, even if you were just doing your job,” she smiled, slowly getting used to looking at the brunette while the brunette in turn looked away.

Lexa looked down at her hands on the steering wheel for a moment before once again locking onto Clarke’s eyes with her own, this time maintaining contact.

“I could have sent anyone to do this, but I didn’t. And I think you know that, Clarke.”

Smiling at the goddess in front of her one last time, she carefully reached out to touch her arm with one hand before opening the door and jumping out of the car. When she had unlocked the gate and made it onto the driveway, the BMW and its driver was already long gone. She allowed herself to quietly cheer out loud. _Maybe all hope is not lost,_ she thought for the second time that evening.

When she got inside she found her mom sleeping on the couch and heard her dad talking enthusiastically on the phone in his office. Not wanting to bother any of them, she carefully draped a blanket over her mother before making her way to her room. Changing into her sleepwear and crawling in under the covers she fished up her phone only to find a message waiting for her.

 _Lexa Woods, 20:52  
_ _I’m sorry for being an ass in the car. Can’t tell you how much I wanted to punch that guy in the face back at Dupont, took some time for me to cool off. I’m glad that you’re safe, please don’t ever hesitate to let me know if something like that happens again._

Clarke smiled at her screen for a solid minute before bringing herself to type out a reply. Even though the text was painfully formal it sent a strong message, and it was practically flowing with emotion for being something written Lexa Woods.

 _Clarke Griffin, 21:04  
_ _Stop apologizing, u saved me not the other way around. Glad that u restrained yourself tho, even if it would’ve been rad to see._

Putting the phone down on her nightstand she turned on the TV at the other end of the room and zapped mindlessly through the channels for almost half an hour. Deciding that she would just call it an early night instead she walked into her bathroom to shower and brush her teeth before jumping back into bed. After she had turned off the lights the display on her phone lit up once more.

 _Lexa Woods, 21:49  
_ _Sure. When does your shift begin tomorrow?_

 _Clarke Griffin, 21:51  
_ _7:30, how so?_

 _Lexa Woods, 21:52  
_ _There will be a car ready at 7 outside your house, will that be OK?_

 _Clarke Griffin, 21:52  
_ _Sounds perfect. Are all drivers as cute as urself tho?_

Another bold move, but she just couldn’t help herself. She counted her heartbeats as she waited for those three dots to turn into a blue bulb.

 _Lexa Woods, 21:54  
_ _Hopefully not. If they are: let me know so I can fire them. I don’t like competition. Goodnight, Clarke._

 _Clarke Griffin, 21:55  
_ _Sleep tight, Lexa. xx_

Clarke almost squealed as a million butterflies wreaked havoc in her stomach. Lexa had, almost beyond a shadow of a doubt, flirted back. It was subtle, but yet oh so obvious and Clarke was soaking in every last bit of it. When she had sent that last text she set her alarms and laid back on her pillow, a stupid grin plastered on her face all through the night.

It had been almost a week since the Dupont debacle, and Clarke was once again stuck in the ER. She missed pediatrics like hell, especially now when she was pretty sure that she had at least three different body fluids from one single patient smeared all over her scrubs. Throwing the ruined shirt in the laundry she put on a clean one and sat down on the bench in the locker room for a ten second-breather – any more than that and she would most definitely not get up again.

Telling herself that it was only two days left until Friday (which was meaningless because she was scheduled all through the weekend) she managed to push back onto her feet and walk back to her damnation. As she got closer she saw ambulance personnel rolling in a stretcher, and just like clockwork her pager went off. Picking up her pace she arrived just as the nurses were putting up drapes around the two new patients and walked up to the closest one.

“What do we got?” she asked one of the nurses.

“Gunshot drama downtown. One man and one woman, both are conscious and their vitals seem okay. Only the woman was hit, the man was pushed to the ground and is experiencing some pain in his abdomen.”

Clarke nodded and walked past the curtains. She immediately recognized the person half-sitting on the stretcher in front of her. A bit bruised and worse for the wear, but other than that smiling, sat Lincoln Hunt.

“Lincoln! Oh my god, what are you doing here?” she asked, quickly reaching for his chart and walking over to him.

“You tell me, doc. Went to a meeting downtown with a client, and when we’re done and walking out of the building there’s shots fired all of a sudden. I got pushed out of the way and landed a bit rough, but I’ll heal,” he explained, motioning to his right side and wincing slight in the process.

Clarke nodded and quickly switched from friend to doctor-mode. Carefully observing and palpating the area that Lincoln had pointed to, she tried her best to be gentle. Moving on to listen at his chest and asking him to move in various ways, Lincoln either was tough or good at acting because he barely moved a muscle while she examined him.

“Okay Linc, I think we’re lucky today. Your ribs have taken a beating, but as far as I can see nothing’s broken. You will be sore for a week or two, but take it easy and don’t stress them and you will be fine. I’ll prescribe some painkillers for you to take twice a day, but as soon as you feel that you’re good without them feel free to stop. You have some cuts that I wanna clean up for you as well, but other than that you should be free to go!” Clarke explained as she scribbled down her findings on the chart.

“Thanks, Clarke. I guess I was the lucky one,” he tried to laugh, but his ribs stopped him halfway through.

“Yeah, considering the fact that you could have been shot,” Clarke offered absentmindedly while looking through her pockets for her prescription pad.

Finally finding it in the wrong back pocket she began jotting down some painkillers on the piece of paper. Doctor’s handwriting really was a thing, she wondered how the pharmacies trained their staff to decipher what she was pretty sure she couldn’t even read herself.

“Speaking of shot, how’s Lexa?” Lincoln asked out of the blue.

All the blood drained from Clarke’s head and for a moment she really thought she would faint. _How could she have been so stupid?_ Gunshot drama. One man and one woman. One stretcher. One person hit, the other one pushed over. Lincoln had been _working_ when it happened. _The other person, the woman, was Lexa._ Silently she handed Lincoln the prescription before backing out of the closed off space.

“I’ll go and ask for you,” she heard herself say, voice steady and calm.

On the inside her heart was burning. _Vitals had been fine,_ she told herself as she walked over to where she had seen them take the other stretcher. But that didn’t mean anything. The bullet could be lodged inside of her and moved when they transferred her from one stretcher to the other. Or she could have lost more blood than the ambulance personnel had noticed an was on her way into hypovolemic shock.

Feeling more than a bit hysterical she tore up the curtains to face one of her intern colleagues leaned over a stoic but (as far as Clarke could tell) still alive Lexa. By the looks of it, he was trying to get the bullet out from the back of her left arm. Lexa didn’t even seem to notice him. _Dear God, she’s fine,_ Clarke thought as she let out a breath she had been holding in without knowing it.

“I’ll take it from here, Ron. Go and tell the other patient that came in with her that she’ll be fine,” she said, not even bothering to play nice.

Being the best intern in her year (and maybe throughout the hospital) came with a few perks and a certain amount of power. Especially with the likes of Ron, who had never been able to form a full sentence directly to her. He just mumbled something unhearable and made himself scarce as fast as possible. Clarke took a seat on the chair he had been sitting on and carried on where he had left off.

“You have been shot,” she stated, not even trying to hide the angry undertone of her voice.

Lexa continued to stare at the ceiling, clearly ignoring her. She grumbled in her seat. She thought that they had made progress in the past week. Ever since Lexa had drove her home that night they had been texting, not every day but often enough. Sometimes just to check up on each other, sometimes to talk about work or life in general. Lexa had even texted her first a few times (two, but who’s counting) and every once in a while, Clarke would get a bit daring. Sometimes Lexa would pretend like she didn’t notice (and who knew, maybe she didn’t) but sometimes she would flirt back. It would be careful and almost a bit awkward, but it was a huge step in the right direction and Clarke lived for those moments. So, when Lexa just laid here, pretending that she didn’t exist, Clarke was just not having it.

“Lexa. Stop ignoring me or I’ll accidentally stab your wound with my forceps. And I know for a fact that they haven’t given you any anesthesia so you _will_ feel it.”

A disapproving huff was initially the only indication that her threat had been understood.

“I told them that they should have taken me to Howard instead, but they insisted on going here,” Lexa said bluntly.

If Lexa was feeling any pain she didn’t let it show. Clarke was trying her hardest to not let her harsh words get to her. She made a mental note to remember that an injured Lexa was a rude Lexa.

“You should be happy that they made that choice. I’d rather go home without care than having to spend the afternoon at Howard’s,” Clarke drawled.

“I like Howard. They do their job without any unnecessary talking.”

“You’re being an asshole, Lexa. How do you expect me to react when you show up here with a bullet inside you?”

Clarke was feeling done with the attitude. Yes, Lexa was strong, and sturdy, (and gorgeous) and had probably had much worse in her life but she was also being a dick. But she was apparently not done with being worst customer of the month. She just continued her staring contest with the ceiling. Clarke just gave up.

Finally being able to fish the little piece of metal out of the dense flesh of Lexa’s upper arm, Clarke dropped it in the metal pan. She carried on with trying to clean out the wound, which was certainly a more delicate job than the brunette would ever give her credit for.

“It was too close today.”  
  
Clarke barely heard it over the chatter of the ER, but it was there. She wanted to ask, but she waited. The answer would come, no doubt.

“We just walked out of the door, and I looked around like I always do, but I didn’t see anything until it was too late. When the shot was fired, all I could do was push them out of the way and pray that none of them got hit. That’s an uncertainty I can’t deal with. I’m losing my edge, Clarke,” Lexa said, still barely auditable.

Clarke looked up at Lexa’s face from her crouched position. She was biting down hard on her lip, her eyes now closed. She knew that this might be crossing a line, but before she could help it she had reached for Lexa’s hand. Gently brushing them together, waiting for approval, she smiled inside when Lexa locked their fingers together.

“You saved lives today, Lexa. You literally took a bullet for those men. You’re not losing your edge, if anything I would say that it’s your edge that allowed you to stay sharp enough to make that call,” she said.

She felt Lexa squeeze her hand in quiet response.

“It’s okay to be mad. And I’ll finish up in silence and leave you to your business if that’s what you want. You said that me being followed on the bus was a serious thing, but you were shot today. I might be a dumb blonde but, in my world, it doesn’t really get more serious than that.”

At that, Lexa chuckled. Opening her eyes again, Clarke noticed a faint spark that she hadn’t really seen there before.

“You’re pretty much the smartest person I’ve ever met, Clarke. I might have to take back what I said about Howard before,” she said, breaking eye contact to look down at their joint hands.  
  
Clarke gently stroked Lexa’s palm with her thumb for a moment before realizing that the woman actually had an open hole in her arm that someone had to fix.

“Don’t do that just yet, I still have to finish cleaning out the wound and cover it up. Then you can tell me how amazing I am,” Clarke winked.

“Don't push it, blondie,” Lexa smirked back.

For a moment it was quiet and a nice vibe lingered in the air. Lexa closed her eyes again and relaxed into the pillow. Then Clarke awkwardly cleared her throat.

“Uhm, Lexa?”

“Hmm?”

“I kinda need my hand back.”

Clarke had tried to free herself from Lexa’s grasp, but the brunette was every bit as strong as she looked. Her fingers had locked on to Clarke’s and seemed to have no intention of letting her go. But then Lexa’s eyes shot open and Clarke could swear that she saw the world’s slightest tint of red taint her cheeks.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” she muttered, instantly letting go of Clarke’s hand and stretching her fingers a couple of times.

Clarke pretended that she didn’t notice the brunette’s predicament and finished up her work rather quickly. Dressing it and wrapping it up she carefully got up from her seat to prescribe yet another dose of painkillers and some antibiotics for Lexa to treat herself with. When she turned back to her patient, Lexa was sitting up in her bed, carefully inspecting Clarke’s handiwork. It was then that Clarke realized that the woman in front of her wasn’t wearing a shirt. She had been far too occupied with the arguing and treating injuries to acknowledge the bare skin that had been right in front of her nose.

She tried for a second to look at something (anything) else but it was fruitless. And really, who could blame her? Lexa’s tanned skin was stretched over visible abs and her arms were long and slender but still powerful. Her neck was graceful and muscular, collarbones defined and Clarke used her last ounce of willpower to not let her eyes wander any lower than that. _And Jesus Christ, was that a tattoo?_

Clarke was too lost in the vision before her to notice that her jaw was slightly slacking, and if someone knew what signs to look for they would probably notice the way her eyes slowly went from sky blue to indigo. Lexa saw it all, and a smile was slowly growing on her lips.

“Clarke, are you quite alright?” she asked slyly.

Clarke almost jumped as she was brought out of her bubble and immediately turned around to fidget with something important.

“Yeah, sure. I’m peachy!”

Lexa arched one of her perfect eyebrows at the blonde’s sudden bashfulness, but Clarke was none the wiser as she desperately tried to bring herself back to earth. She was a doctor, for the love of God, she had seen too many naked bodies in her life to remember them all. But this wasn’t _any body_ , she reminded herself. This was Lexa’s body, and she had been not at all prepared. Taking a deep breath she readied herself to turn around again. As a gift from above, she noticed Lexa’s blouse lying on a chair next to her. Picking it up she walked over to the brunette and handed it to her with a (slightly rabid) smile. Waiting for Lexa to put it on so that she could start to trust her body again, she busied herself with filling in charts.

“So, what’s your verdict?” Lexa asked, swinging her legs over and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Well, your muscle has been damaged but not torn completely. You will experience a lot of discomfort in the beginning, but I see no reason why it shouldn’t heal up nicely. I’ll give you a sling to wear so that your arm can rest in a good position, and it is crucial that you don’t strain it as long as it hurts. Re-dress it once a day and make sure that things are sterile when you do. I’m prescribing you some painkillers and antibiotics, and if you’re okay with that I could check it up for you in two weeks to see if you’re going to need any additional care,” Clarke said, finally feeling in control again.

Lexa looked a bit bummed but accepting. Nodding a few times, more to herself than to Clarke, she finally looked back up with a smile. It was one of those smiles she used when she worked, not the earnest one she had when she actually enjoyed herself, but Clarke took every bone she could get.

“I would really appreciate that, thank you. I’m sure we’ll hear from each other before that, but just text me when it’s time anyway and we’ll schedule something.”

“In that case, I think we’re done here. Just call if anything changes or if it hurts too much, will you?” Clarke smiled.

Lexa nodded and got up from her bed to grab her coat. Clarke desperately didn’t want this to end, but she also had no idea what to say or do to make it last longer. Lexa probably had a thousand things to do and her shift wasn’t quite over yet. Just as the brunette was walking out of the cubicle she remembered that she had one last card up her sleeve.

“Hey Lexa!” she called out.

The brunette stopped and looked over her shoulder, raising one eyebrow.

“Yes, Clarke?”

Clarke felt her heartrate pick up again, but she wasn’t backing down now.

“Uhm, my shift ends in half an hour, and I was thinking that maybe I could buy you that coffee?”

Clarke was immediately regretting her question. The woman had just been shot, for gods sake. She would most likely want to go home and sleep, or take a bath, or virtually anything _other_ than go out on a coffee date (date?) with her doctor (client? Friend?). Lexa seemed taken a bit by surprise because her mouth opened and closed a few times, but then she smiled. A big, honest and slightly reserved smile, but _oh_ was it beautiful.

“Listen Clarke, I really need to go and see Lincoln. He’s waiting for me outside and has been blowing up my phone for the past ten minutes. I’m starting to suspect that your friend Ron didn’t do such a good job of calming him down. And then I have to go back to the office to get my bag and all my stuff that was left behind at the scene…”

Clarke’s heart sank, but she refused to let it show. Instead she forced a smile and tried to sound as understanding as she could.

“Oh, it’s cool. I mean, it figures that you wouldn’t want coffee right after you’ve been shot. It was a silly question really.”

Clarke kind of just wanted Lexa to go now and not make this any worse, but instead she took one step back inside the cubicle and seemed scrolled through her phone for a moment before looking back up.

“Oh, believe me, I could use a cup. Fortunately though, I’m always in the mood for coffee, and I happen to have the afternoon clear tomorrow. When does your shift end?”

Clarke was once again on the emotional rollercoaster that was interacting with Lexa Woods. Immediately feeling ten times better she now had to work to keep her cool instead.

“I go off at 3PM, but I can always stay longer if that’s more convenient for you,” Clarke borderline rambled.

“No, 3PM will be just fine. I’ll have the driver take you to my office instead, and we can take it from there. Will that be okay for you?” Lexa asked, chuckling at Clarke’s effort.

“Yeah. Sure. That sounds amazing! Or good, or you know, decent.”  
  
Clarke was being a complete mess and she sure knew it. That didn’t help her to stop it though. Luckily, Lexa seemed to find it quite charming, if the grin on her face was anything to go by.

“Great!” she just said, once again turning on her heel and leaving Clarke to try and salvage what was left of her self-esteem from the floor.

It was only a few seconds before Clarke’s phone buzzed in her pocket.

 _Lexa Woods, 17:33  
_ _Thanks for bearing with me today. xx_

With the message came a print screen of Lexa’s rather crammed calendar that was filled with abbreviations and letter-combinations that Clarke couldn’t make any sense of. But it all ended at noon, and after that there was only one appointment in a sky blue colour.

_‘3PM – Coffee with Clarke’._

Typing out a quick reply and not even bothering to wipe the grin of her face before her pager went off again, Clarke took on the last 27 minutes of her shift with a newfound vigour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woho people let's get excited for date night!


	5. There's nothing better than snow in December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally.

Clarke finished her shift at exactly 3PM (that was certainly a first) and went straight to the locker room. Usually she just changed into whatever had been closest to her when she packed her bag in the mornings, but today she had woken up half an hour earlier and spent half of that time in her closet. Unlocking her locker she laid out the outfit she had chosen on the bench and began stripping out of her scrubs. She could’ve maybe used a shower, but she wasn’t _that_ gross and the showers at the hospital definitely were, so it would just have to do. Pulling up her ash-blonde curls in an unintentionally messy bun she stepped into a pair of black jeans and replaced her runners with black flats. She pulled on a simple white t-shirt and a navy blazer before stuffing all her belongings into a (surprise, surprise) black Valentino.

She attracted a few looks from her co-workers as she walked out of the hospital, she didn’t blame them though – she was a surgical intern and they usually didn’t engage in too many 'extracurricular activities'. What was harder to morally defend however, was the black, toned sedan that had picked her up right outside the hospitals for eight days straight now. She had been forced to defend her own abilities all throughout medical school because of who her mother was, and now she had to try and convince everyone that she was not a spoiled brat because of that stupid car.

The driver was nice enough though: a quiet gentleman from Colorado whose name was Steve and whose wife’s name was Lyndall. That was all the information she had managed to get out of him this far, but it was a work in progress. Giving him a warm smile and a hello as she jumped in the backseat, they began the rather short drive toward Forrester & Woods. It occurred to Clarke that she didn’t exactly know where Lexa’s office was (except that it was close to Washington Circle) and that was a small problem if she was the one who was supposed to decide where to take them. She could always ask Lexa for advice though, that would probably be wiser than asking Google.

Deciding to give the brunette a heads up she took out her phone from her pocket and opened her conversation with Lexa.

 _Clarke Griffin, 15:17  
_ _Hey, I’m omw. Hope ur feeling okay!_

The reply came after only a minute, but to Clarke every second felt like hours as her nervousness increased exponentially with every passing junction.

 _Lexa Woods, 15:18  
_ _Great. Got stuck in an unplanned conference call but I’ll try and wrap it up. Just wait in the lobby for me and don’t let my employees get to you.  
_

_And don’t worry about me, a nice intern patched me up yesterday so I’m as good as new._

_Clarke Griffin, 15:18  
_ _Only nice? I’ve heard she’s the best in town_

 _Lexa Woods, 15:19  
_ _Don’t push it, Griffin.  
_

_But yeah, she was kinda cute._

Clarke only allowed a small smile to appear on her lips as she tried to calm the zoo down in her stomach. Lexa had called her cute, which was slightly degrading but overweighingly endearing. A feeling that helped mute the slight distress over Lexa's red flagged staff.

Dropping the phone back into her bag she had time to take a deep breath before the driver pulled over in front of an impressive, sand coloured building that had so many big windows on its front wall that it looked to be made of glass. She thanked Steve for the ride, stepped out on the sidewalk and walked straight up to the doors. The different companies that had their offices inside were listed on a sign by the entrance and Clarke immediately spotted Forrester & Woods on the fourteenth floor.

The lobby was spacious and open all the way up to the roof. There front desk was ten times bigger than Clarke's self-esteem and the atmosphere was slightly chaotic, yet efficient and poised. Its occupants were mainly people in suits, holding a briefcase in one hand and a phone in the other as they walked across the floor without acknowledging the world around them. Some were followed by people in less expensive suits, often carrying coffee mugs and stacks of paper while trying to give the right answers to the right questions. Clarke wondered if that was what Lexa looked like, walking here in the mornings. She also spotted a person or two that she recognized. Apparently they had business to do here, or maybe they just pretended to, like herself.

Stepping into the elevator alongside a young man with glasses and a badge that said ‘IT-support’, and a woman who got off at the first floor and kept her back turned to Clarke the entire time, she felt like she might faint. The closer she got, the more she realized that she had absolutely no idea how to act, how to smile or what to talk about. This time she didn't have the luxury of being the only one in the room without a bullet lodged in her left triceps. This time there wouldn’t be an entire great hall filled with people to do their conversation for them. This time she would actually have to convince Lexa that she was a smart, funny woman on her own – something that hadn’t exactly gone great in the past.

As the elevator doors opened Clarke stepped out in a hallway that eventually led her to a pair of glass doors printed with ‘Forrester & Woods’. Pushing them open she was immediately spotted by a tan, beautiful young woman with amazing curls sitting behind a big, white front desk (that also had the company logo on it). The woman, who had been typing away at a computer when Clarke walked in now turned to greet her with a big smile. 

“Welcome to Forrester & Woods, how can I help you?” she asked.  
“Hey, I’m here to see Lexa Woods?” Clarke replied hesitantely.

The woman held up one finger while she seemed to check something on her computer before looking back up at Clarke with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, she’s taken the afternoon off for personal reasons,” she explained, eyes returning to her screen before doubling back and widening up.  
“Wait, what’s your name, miss?”  
“Ehm, it’s Clarke, Clarke Griffin?”

Once again Clarke’s words came out more as a question than an answer, but her nerves had taken to disassembling her social competence brick by brick and she figured that she should save what energy she had left for Lexa, and not Lexa’s receptionist (even if she seemed nice enough).

“Wait, _you’re Clarke?_ Like Clarke Griffin, daughter of Abigail Griffin and Marcus Kane with the super-blue eyes?” the woman asked, her jaw falling open.  
“I guess that’s me, yeah,” Clarke said, trying to smile a little more convincingly.  
“Well in _that_ case, welcome, Ms. Griffin! Lexa’s stuck on the phone but she should be out in a minute. Just take a seat while you wait. There’s coffee and water over there and magazines by the armchair, help yourself to whatever, honey. I’m Luna by the way, pleasure to _finally_ meet you.”

Luna motioned toward a couch and a few armchairs standing together in a lounge area before reaching out to shake Clarke’s hand. Clark herself was a little thrown off by the sudden change of behaviour but thanked for the help and sat down where she had been told to, picking up a magazine on home-decoration to skim through.

After a few minutes, a large man that Clarke vaguely recognized showed up from inside the office. He wore a plaid shirt and not a suit this time, but she was pretty sure that he had been working at the Christmas party. Not wanting to stare, she returned her gaze to the magazine after a quick glance. She pretty soon overheard the man trying to talk to Luna in a hushed voice, but his booming vocal chords made that next into impossible.

“ _Isn’t that the Griffin-girl?”  
__“Yes, Nyko, it is. And keep your voice down!”  
“But what is she doing here? I thought that it was her daddy's lawyers that handled the contract?”  
__“It is, but she’s not here for that. Lexa’s booked her up for the entire afternoon. No details or anything, just a huge block from 3PM and onwards that says ‘CG’.”  
__“But she had like three meetings this afternoon when I asked yesterday?”  
__“Yeah, I know, she rescheduled them all. I thought it had to do with the gunshot and then this showed up. But I’m not judging, if anyone’s entitled to an afternoon off it’s Lexa.”_

Clarke felt her heartbeat rise again. She knew that she wasn’t supposed to be listening, but this was _about her._ Internally screaming over the fact that Lexa had rebooked three meetings for this it was hard not to feel the pressure, but she kept her cool and continued to lazily turn the pages.

 _“Damn girl, I agree with you. But Lexa never reschedules for anyone, right? Did you ask her about it?”  
__“Of course I did, I wasn’t born yesterday. She just told me to mind my own business and went on about the Lark-deal, but I swear that I saw her flinch for a second. This girl is_ _someone special_ , _I’m telling you.”_

Keeping her cool was getting harder and harder, and Clarke had to resist the urge to squeal.

 _“Special? That’s an understatement. It says in her file that she was valedictorian,_ and _she’s a surgical intern so she’s definitely brainy. Her parents are loaded and she’s – objectively speaking as a married man – gorgeous. She’s a catch, even with Lexa-standards. I’m going to say hi.”_

Clarke felt both a little flattered and (as usual) embarrassed by the man’s speech (especially the part about her parents and her looks) but tried to look as composed as possible while waiting for him to reach her. She heard him stopping a few feet in front of her, but she kept on pretending like she was completely absorbed in her reading until he spoke up.

“Hey, excuse me, I just wanted to introduce myself, I heard you’re Lexa’s friend. I’m Nicholas but everyone calls me Nyko,” he rumbled with a smile, reaching out a hand that was about the size of Clarke's head.

She rose to her feet and shook it with as much authority as she could muster, mirroring his happy expression.

“Pleasure to meet you, Nyko. I’m Clarke, Clarke Griffin. I believe I saw you at my father’s Christmas party?”  
“Yeah, I was there working. I work mostly on the field,” he explained.

Nyko continued to explain what his duties included (quite detailed) and Clarke sat back and listened enthusiastically. If it was anything she was good at, it was listening to people telling her things they were really excited about and pretending that she cared. Soon Luna also joined them. Since it was an appointment only-office, she didn’t have to be seated at the front desk all the time. Clarke had waited for Lexa for almost twenty minutes when the entrance doors swung up to reveal yet another brunette, but this one had long hair instead of Luna’s curls. She was rather tall, probably an inch or two taller than Lexa, and frowned when she saw the small gathering by the sofas.

“Why is no one working around here? I mean really guys, am I the only one contributing to this household?”

Nyko chuckled at this and Luna just rolled her eyes. Leaning over a bit so that Clarke was visible behind his gigantic frame, Nyko just motioned towards the blonde.

“We’re making a new friend! Echo, meet Clarke – Clarke, meet Echo. She’s like the beta version of me,” he explained with a grin.

Echo’s annoyance was quickly replaced by curiosity and she quickly made her way over to the others (slapping Nyko hard on the shoulder when she arrived).

“Is this _that_ Clarke? The Clarke with the insanely blue eyes that Lexa rescheduled her entire afternoon for?” Echo asked with big eyes.

Luna just nodded with a superior smirk, she took great pride in being the one that Clarke had spoken to first.

“In that case – move over Nyko. It’s my turn to make friends with her now!” the woman said and started pushing the huge man down from his chair. Finally giving up and settling for the armrest she turned to Clarke with a sly smirk.  
“So, it’s really true what they say, huh? You’re both brains _and_ beauty. Certainly impressive! I’m Echo, I work with Nyko here most of the time, and if I’m not I do the same things but on my own,” she said lazily, extending yet another hand for Clarke to shake.

She seemed like an easygoing person, but certainly with a mischievous gleam in her eye and a few tricks up her sleeve. _She would probably have gotten along great with Raven,_ Clarke thought. Just as she was about to introduce herself back, Luna made a noise that was somewhere between a whine and a gasp. Then someone behind them cleared their throat in the most subtle but yet commandeering way one possibly can. Nyko and Echo jumped to their feet in half a second and Luna mumbled something about having to make a call before sprinting back between her desk.

“I should fire every single one of you,” Lexa Woods said.

In black Blahniks almost higher than the woman's eyebrows, grey pencil skirt and a teal blouse she looked every bit as serious as her tone. The air was thick and could probably have been cut in half with a knife (or those heels), until there was the slightest trace of curvature on one side of the brunette’s mouth. It wasn’t a smile by any means, but it was an indicator that maybe she was having the tiniest bit of fun making them crawl under her gaze and not in a mean way.

Slowly beginning to walk toward them, she looked down at her shoes for a second before checking her phone and finally squaring both Nyko and Echo with her eyes once more.

“I do know that Ms. Griffin here can be quite captivating. And since I’m the one who’s responsible for the fact that she’s been forced to wait here for thirty minutes with brutes such as yourself, I’ll let it slide. Now, get back to work.”

The two of them sprinted off immediately toward their offices, and Nyko barely managed to turn around and wave goodbye behind Lexa’s back before he had disappeared from view. Lexa now turned her attention to Clarke and allowed that smirk to grow a bit wider.

“I’m sorry that I kept you waiting, now let’s go,” she said, before taking the lead and walking off.

Clarke had to step up her pace to keep even steps with the older woman, and it wasn’t until they had entered the elevator that she could catch her breath and even begin thinking of what to say. But that smirk on Lexa’s lips just had to be addressed.

“You enjoyed that little stunt far too much back there,” she said, playfully jabbing Lexa’s healthy arm.  
“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,” came Lexa’s reply, far too quickly.

Clarke just raised her eyebrows at that. Lexa tried to roll her eyes, but had the decency to look slightly remorseful.

“Fine. Maybe I went a little over the top. But they need to know who’s in charge,” she shrugged, still smirking, which convinced Clarke that she wasn’t a hundred percent serious.  
“ _Please,_ I’m sure everyone knows exactly who’s in charge whenever you’re in the room.”

To Clarke, Lexa was the very embodiment of power. Always poised and collected with impeccable control, she carried herself like a soldier and a queen at the same time.

“Definitely not. Your dad actually mistook my right-hand woman Indra for me when I met him the first time.”  
“ _Of course_ he did, but he’s an idiot. Don’t listen to him,” Clarke groaned at her dad’s blunder.  
“Not very reassuring to hear the daughter of a potential future mayor call her father an idiot,” Lexa said, raising an eyebrow.

Clarke just shook her head and smiled. The way they were right now, playfully bantering in an elevator, that was what she wanted it to be like all the time. _You can always dream,_ she thought and dragged herself back to reality as the elevator doors opened and they walked into the lobby.

“There’s a really nice coffee-shop just a few blocks away, I was thinking we could go there,” Lexa more explained than asked as she waited for Clarke to catch up with her.  
“That sounds great. You do realize that I’m the one who’s supposed to take you out and not the other way around, though?” Clarke chuckled.  
“I don’t take chances with my coffee, Clarke. That’s rule number one,” Lexa said, dead serious with an unreadable expression.

Or at least it would have been unreadable just 48 hours ago. Small things, like the way she moved her head or the way her brow frowned, keys that were starting to surface. Easy to miss but clear as day once you caught sight of them. Keys that would be crucial if she ever wanted to get any closer than this. But there was one thing that she had to get out of the way first.

“So, how’s the arm?” she asked, trying not to let her worry show too much.  
“You’ve already asked me that question today, Clarke.”  
“Yeah, and you never gave me a straight answer. Any pain? Numbness? Movement issues? Have you redressed it yet?”

Clarke went into full doctor mode and Lexa had a facial expression somewhere between chocked and amused as they crossed the busy street.

“Woah, slow down there, Virginia Apgar,” Lexa laughed.

One look from Clarke made her realize that the blonde was not joking.

“Oh, okay… well on a scale from 1-10 I would say that pain is maybe a five and increasing, but it’s been a while since I took anything for the pain. No numbness, I hurts more when I move it so I don’t, but I think that I could if I had to. And no, haven’t redressed it.”  
“Okay, that’s fine. You should take the painkillers with food anyways, so we’ll just grab a bite to go with the coffee and you’ll be all set.”

The rest of the walk to their destination was spent making pleasant smalltalk. It was cold outside and every now and then they would have to avoid an ice patch on the ground. Clarke was silently impressed by Lexa for handling winter in those shoes, but then again, she wasn’t really surprised.

When they finally arrived, both were a bit ruffed up from the cold and eager to get inside. It was a ‘hole in the wall’-kind of place with a cozy and rustic interior. The walls were made off rough stone and the lightning came from lightbulbs hanging from the ceilings without shades. Shelves with plants and books hung on the walls, and different pieces by independent artists beside them. It was completely Clarke’s cup of tea, but she was a bit surprised that Lexa would pick a quirky hipster-hub amongst the hundreds of cafés the city had to offer. They sat down at a secluded table in the far corner, next to a big window, with a good yet sheltered view of the street outside. The waiter, a young man in his early twenties, arrived almost instantaneously.

“What can I get you today, ladies?”  
“I’ll have a cappuccino with a double espresso and an avocado bagel, please,” Lexa ordered with a fake smile and a clear voice.

The waiter seemed none the wiser though and gave her a hearty (and honest) smile in return before turning to Clarke.

“And what about you?”  
“I’ll have a macchiato and another avocado bagel, thanks.”

The waiter nodded and left them alone again. For the first time, silence struck as both seemed to wait for the other to say something useful. After a few moments, Lexa was the first to act.

“So, did you get any more exciting gun shot-victims today?”  
“Hah, if only. I got two dislocated shoulders, a concussion and a few broken bones. It’s winter in Washington, all people do is fall over these days,” Clarke said with an annoyed flick of her wrist.  
“Glad to hear that I’m still special. Maybe a slow period is good for you, though?” Lexa tried with a small smile.  
“I guess that’s one way to look at it. But you don’t get to go into the OR over a concussion,” Clarke rumbled.

She knew that it was horrible of her to want people to hurt themselves, only for her to be able to clock more hours by the table. But she was a(n aspiring) surgeon, she was going to go into withdrawal soon if nothing more exciting happened. Lexa seemed to understand though, and of course she did. She was a careerist every bit as much as Clarke, if not more, and so she just hummed in agreement.

“So, this place, did you pick it because you thought I would like it or because you like it yourself?” Clarke asked, placing her elbows on the table (screw manners) and resting her head in her hands.

Lexa looked at her knuckles for a moment before answering, she seemed to be choosing carefully between different comebacks. _Nothing’s ever done without careful consideration for this girl_ , Clarke thought.

“I used to work a lot abroad when I was younger, and whenever I came back to America I would crash at my friend Anya’s place. She loved this place, it was her number one coffee spot in the entire city, so we went here a lot. I guess it just stuck with me all these years.”  
  
Clarke listened carefully and tried to catalogue every word. This was the first time Lexa told her anything about herself, and she wanted to remember it.

“It’s not much to the world, but they do make excellent coffee,” the brunette finished, clearing away all the sentimentality with a witty remark.  
“It’s amazing, Lexa. I liked it the moment we stepped in,” Clarke reassured.

If this had been an ordinary occasion she would have reached out, maybe touched her arm, but now she was afraid she would ruin the moment if she did. Instead she just stayed as she were, observing and admiring from afar.

“So now I’ve met Lincoln, Nyko, Echo and Luna. How many are there left before I can expect to get invited to after works and stuff?” Clarke teased.

Lexa just snorted at that and shook her head a few times, and all the time she kept on smiling. She had been ever since they entered the café. Clarke silently reckoned that this must’ve been the first time that she had ever seen the brunette so unbothered.

“There’s still Emori, resident tech wiz and computer engineer. She is very _private_ though, not even I see her that often. She’s probably smarter than Einstein and can track anyone down in five seconds, but she stays mostly hurled up inside her lab. Then there’s Indra, she’s the one your dad mistook for me. She and Nyko are the ones that are still there since before my time. She works mainly as an strategical advisor, both for me and the others, but also for customers. She’s a analyst and tells us in what order we should take certain steps or do certain things for maximum efficiency. She can come off as a bit cold, but I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“You seem to have a really good team over there. That’s good, I would hate for you to take bullets for people who weren’t worth it,” Clarke smirked.

Lexa just chuckled before the waiter arrived with their food. Taking a sip from her coffee, Clarke had to close her eyes and bite back a moan, because _damn_ it was good.

“Jesus Christ, Lexa. I hope you don’t mind if I start going here too, because this is the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.”  
“Feel free. Just don’t tell all your friends, I’ll be really bummed if it starts becoming too crowded in here.”

Clarke peaked at the brunette over her cup and saw that playful gleam in her eyes. She only realized that she was actually speaking the words on her mind out loud long after she’d started saying them.

“If you promise to go with me. Wouldn’t want to risk sharing your attention with anyone else anyways.”

She fought her own blood vessels to the death after she caught herself. She refused to turn into a beetroot in front of Lexa, but the longer the silence lasted the harder it was. Lexa, on the other end, seemed to enjoy herself immensely. With that gorgeous but infuriating smirk plastered on her face, she took another sip from her cup before leaning forward. Clarke’s breath almost hitched in her throat even though they were still several inches apart.

“I’ve already told you once that you distract me, Clarke. It’s a struggle to share my attention with anything, even more so with any _one,_ when you’re around.”

This was all turning into a bit more than Clarke’s brain could handle. Sure, they’d had their fair share of playfully flirty banter over the past week, but this was the first time it had happened live. Lexa was teasing her, she knew that, and she was an easy target to fluster. But she refused to give in, instead she dived deeper.

“Luckily for you, this is a small café and not a big event. I’m thinking that you can afford to get a bit distracted in here, don’t you?”

Lexa held her gaze steady like a rock, looking right into Clarke’s own. Not letting go of that smirk on the outside, but obviously arguing with herself on the inside. Clarke acted on a whim and finally allowed herself to reach out for that arm. Carefully grazing it before taking a careful hold, she could both see and feel the brunette relaxing. It wasn’t a question about _if_ they both felt the same thing anymore - at least she hoped it wasn't. She was pretty certain that Lexa felt the same attraction as she did, at least to some extent, it was more a question about how, when and where?

“Since we sat down three people have slowed down or stopped completely to get a better look at you. One has taken a picture, on his way out after buying a muffin. All those people could’ve carried a gun. The guy that I took a bullet for yesterday isn’t the son of anyone famous, but they still tried to take him down. I'm doing my best to focus on you, I always do, but there's a million other places my head has got to be. You just have to trust me when I say that I'm good at multitasking,” Lexa said, locking their eyes together and reaching out to place her hand on top of Clarke's.

They only touched for a second before the brunette pulled back. Clarke ran her thumb over lean muscles one more time before letting go and taking a bite of her bagel. They’d had enough seriousness for this moment.

“I trust you to do just about anything. However, we have to discuss the fact that you’ve just allowed to people to take photos of me without letting me know. What if they came in from a weird angle?”

xxx

The pain in her arm was almost making her sick, but she refused to miss a second of Clarke’s (very long) story about how she and her friends had hitchhiked from Boston to New York and back again to get Raven a spare part for a school project. Not because it was overly interesting or even funny, but because of the way those blue eyes practically sparkled with excitement and how those hands would move and make weird gestures _all the time._

Clarke was beautiful. She had known this from the start, but it was something that had to be said, if only because it seemed to become more tangible by the second. It was almost getting _too_ good from time to time, Lexa was honestly not sure how much she could handle. The kindness, the patience and the never-ending stream of understanding and empathy was slightly overwhelming and so much more than she thought she'd deserved this far. But Clarke was here because she had asked to be, and Lexa would be damned if she backed down based on her own shrewd insecurities.

She had taken her pain medicine almost half an hour ago, and it definitely hadn’t kicked in yet. When Clarke excused herself to go to the bathroom, Lexa took a well-needed break from pretending and grasped her left arm with the other hand. It throbbed like a galloping horse under the bandages, and she had to bite down on her cheek to keep herself from wincing out loud. Losing track of how long it had been in her pain-induced trance, she was roused by a gasp behind her.

“Your arm. How bad is it?”

Clarke approached her from the side and looked into her eyes with a point blank-serious expression. Lexa quickly steeled her features like she had done so many times in the past and forced a(n almost) believable smile.  
  
“It’s fine. Still a five, maybe even a four,” she said with a wave of her working hand.  
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I’ll go pay and then we’ll get you out of here.”  
“Here, take my card,” Lexa said, reaching into her purse only to be met with another death-glare from Clarke.  
“Don’t even dream about paying, Lexa. I’m taking _you_ out for coffee, you keep on forgetting that.”  
“You should spend your money on better things, Clarke. At least let me split it.”  
“I’m an _intern_ , Lexa. I don’t have time to spend my money on anything, so please be quiet and try not to hurt yourself while I'm gone. And don’t even dream about splitting. If we split it doesn’t qualify as a date anymore - I’m paying for it _all_.”

Lexa could nothing but arch her eyebrow in silent acceptance, but managed to chuckle lightly despite the pain in her arm. She allowed Clarke to walk off (not that she was in a state to hinder her anyway). _It’s a date,_ she thought with a smile. It had been a _long_ time since she had been on one of those. It had been a long time since someone made her smile like this. It had been a long time since anything.

When Clarke came back she quickly pulled on her coat before grabbing Lexa’s from the chair next to the brunette. Before Lexa could protest she held up her coat for her, easing her injured arm into it and pulling it on with quick hands. After a little fuss she agreed to let her carry her own bag – Lexa was a marine for god’s sake, not a destitute. Once they were out on the street she stopped and turned to the brunette once more.

“Can you walk?” she asked with a stern voice.  
“I’m going to be fine, Clarke. Let’s just get you a cab first,” Lexa reassured, and started walking closer to the street.  
“No, you idiot, I’m not going home. _We’re_ going to a drug store just a block from here to buy supplies and then you’re taking me home,” Clarke said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Lexa was, once again, dumb folded. She did _not_ bring people home. Not friends, not clients, no one. If she ever (rarely) got out and got lucky she always went home with _them_ or checked in at a hotel. Not that she was going to have sex with Clarke anyway (not today, at least), but that wasn’t the point. Her home was her safe place, her fortress, her shrine.

“I don’t take people home like that, Clarke,” was all that she managed to croak out after what seemed like a minute of silence.

Clarke obviously thought she meant something completely different, like probably any person would, and just rolled her eyes.

“I’m not asking you to fuck me, Lexa. I need to check your wound and re-dress it properly, and I’d rather do that in an apartment than out on the street. I would offer you to come home with me, but not only is it farther away, I also reckon that you’d rather not explain things to my parents and neither do I. So, your place it is.”

Lexa grumbled for a moment while thinking things through. Clarke was making a valid point, it would be stupid not to accept adequate help when it was being offered. She was no medical professional but even she understood that if something hurt like this, it was probably good to get a check-up. It didn’t feel quite right, but then again, if she was going to let someone in it might as well be Clarke. Clarke, who had already burst through most of her walls and defenses like they were made of toy blocks.

“Fine. Where is this drugstore then?” she asked resignedly.  
“Just a minute’s walk this way. Put your arm around me and we’ll go,” Clarke once again offered like it was common knowledge.

Lexa was _not_ having it.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own, Clarke,” she grumbled.  
“I know, but it will go faster this way. And I’m cold. I could use you a bit closer, hot stuff,” Clarke jested.

She knew that she was being a dick (again), and like always, Clarke's patience was never ending. Smilingly resigned, she walked up to the blonde and wrapped her functional arm over her shoulders, holding on tight. Clarke wasn’t cold, they both knew that, but a little pretending never killed anybody.

The short walk to the drug store was certainly more comfortable when she could lean a bit of her weight on Clarke than it would’ve been without. It was past 6PM and already completely dark outside, but the streetlight’s warm glow shone down on them, casting playful shadows against the frozen ground. When they got through the doors Clarke just dumped Lexa by the entrance and quickly scavenged through the aisles for anything she might need. She returned with a brown paper bag in her hand and a proud grin on her face.

“Here we go! Now we just need a cab.”

When they stepped again, it had started to snow. Lexa groaned, to her that just meant traffic chaos and not being able to wear the shoes she wanted. But turning to her side, her opinion quickly boomeranged. To her right stood a blonde goddess, face turned to the skies, spinning around with her arms spread wide and a huge smile on her lips. When she finally stopped she almost bounced up to Lexa and snuggled into her side while the brunette once again draped her arm around her.

“Doesn’t matter how old I get, there’s nothing better than snow in December. Don’t you think?”

Lexa just chuckled before pulling the blonde closer for a moment.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Clarke only allowed them to stay like that for a moment though, she quickly straightened back up and proceeded to try and hail down a cab. It took her a few tries (and more than a few angry curse words) but eventually one pulled over. Lexa told the driver her address and didn’t look over to Clarke for a reaction. Instead she just leant back in her seat and tried to focus on something other than the pain in her arm or Clarke for a moment. Her brain desperately needed a break from both plain pain and painfully beautiful.

It took them slightly less than fifteen minutes before they arrived at Lexa’s building. She had bought this place only a year ago, after Anya finally had convinced her that her small one bedroom-apartment wouldn’t do. It was relatively central but in a calm and quiet area, exactly what she needed. Clarke followed her silently out of the cab, paper bag still securely in hand, and stayed silent as they rode the elevator all the way to the top floor.

It was in no way lavish, but it _was_ a penthouse, so a little flair had to be expected even for someone like Lexa. Blipping her key card and waiting for the doors to open, she stepped in and disabled the alarm and turned the lights on before motioning for Clarke to enter. Still not waiting to see a reaction she took of her coat and hung it beside the door.

It was mainly levelled open plan, with the kitchen immediately to your left after you stepped out of the entrance hallway. To your immediate right was a bathroom, and if you kept on walking, there were two small steps down that created a slight level difference between the kitchen and the living room-area. There was a fireplace in the middle of it, as well as a huge sofa and matching rug. On the wall hung a flat screen and next to it was a bookshelf that was a bit too cramped. The wall that faced the street below was paneled glass and the next room to the left was the master suite with another adjacent bathroom. To the right was a guest room, a gym and an office. Color-wise, Lexa had kept it light. Impersonal, some would say, practical, if you asked her. The walls were ivory, floors light ash, textiles no darker than alabaster. The only exception was her kitchen counter tops, they were dark grey marble. For the sake of contrast, she argued to herself.

Walking inside, she turned to Clarke as she passed the kitchen on her way to her bedroom.

“I’ll just go and change, help yourself to whatever in the kitchen or have a look around. I’ll be back in a minute.”

When she returned she saw Clarke on the far end of her living room, running her finger’s over the spine of her many books. Once in a while she would stop, carefully pick out a title and study it before slipping it back in. Lexa had been a bit of a bookworm when she was younger – still was, just never had time to read – which had ended her up with all kinds of varying literature. Books had been her way of escaping a harsh reality and she would read just about anything from nonfiction to trashy, romantic novels.

Quietly walking closer she glanced over the blonde’s shoulder. She was holding Lexa’s old and worn-down copy of Howards End, carefully stroking over the back with her fingers.

“I found that one in the back of a thrift shop when I was thirteen. I finished it in a weekend, I've read it a dozen times since and I still don't completely understand what's going on,” Lexa said, walking up and leaning against a wall behind Clarke.  
“I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t touch your things. I know you don’t like having people over and I’m not making things easier, sorry,” Clarke apologized and immediately put the book back in its spot.

As the blonde turned to face her, her face went from embarrassed to shocked and then into a deep red. For someone who had spent multiple years in medical school, she really wasn’t dealing very well with bare skin. Lexa had figured that since Clarke was going to redress her wound it was unnecessary to put on a shirt. Instead she had jumped into a pair of runner shorts and walked out of the bedroom in just those and her bra. Clarke was openly gawking at her midriff at the moment, and Lexa would be lying if she didn’t admit to enjoying it just the slightest bit.

“Okay, this is _not_ fair. You don’t get to be both super successful, super nice _and_ have a body that looks like _that_ ,” Clarke finally spoke up, throwing her hands in the air and defiantly turning to look at the wall instead.

Lexa just tried to chuckle and walked over to sit down on her sofa. She was starting to feel a bit lightheaded, which probably was a good thing, or she would’ve had no idea how to respond to a comment like that.

“We both know that I’m neither that successful nor nice, and I’m far too brawny for Gabbana. _You,_ on the other hand fits perfectly into that description and I’ll be happy to tell you why after you’ve done something about my arm.”  
“Oh! _Right._ Let me get the stuff and I’ll be right with you,” Clarke gasped and ran over to the door.

After washing her hands, Clarke sat down gently next to Lexa on the couch. She began to carefully unwrap the bandages around her arm before cleaning out the wound for the second day in a row. Lexa had to bite down on her cheek and squeeze a pillow to keep herself from wincing from the pain.

“You’re going to have a mouth full of blood if you keep biting yourself like that. Take a few breaths – I’ll wait – and tell me a story instead,” Clarke said with that calm and soothing doctor’s voice.  
“I don’t have any interesting stories to tell, Clarke. All I do is work and that’s confidential information,” Lexa replied through gritted teeth.  
“And I don’t care if you think it’s interesting or not. Tell me something from your childhood then. Or a college screw up, even the perfect Lexa Woods must’ve made _one_ young and dumb mistake.”  
  
It was just a joke, Lexa knew that. She just wanted to make her feel better by focusing on a happy childhood or some amusing teenage escapade. But Lexa didn’t have any of those. Her childhood was frankly quite traumatic and not something she thought about, even less talked about. And she had never been to college, which of course was hard for someone like Clarke to understand. Most people who owned a business and a rooftop-apartment had usually been to college – Lexa knew that. But she wasn't most people, she had been gritting her teeth at boot camp instead.

“I appreciate the effort, Clarke. But I’d rather you just cleaned that out as fast as you can and let me worry about my own cheeks.”

Clarke just sighed and didn’t do or say anything for a moment. But then the burning pain in Lexa’s arm started again, and that meant that Clarke had given up and returned to her task. It didn’t take her long to finish once she started caring less about Lexa’s well-being and more about getting done. Once she had wrapped the last bandage and secured it she gathered all the packaging and trash in the bag and put it on the floor.

“That’s it, bad ass, you’re all stitched up. I really need you to take it easier in the future though, rest a lot and most importantly – take your damn meds. If this gets infected I would hate to be the one who had to chop the whole arm off, Lexa.”

Clarke was all business now and that sweet patience was gone from her voice. Lexa winced internally, maybe she had pissed her off for the last time? Not wanting to make things worse she made sure that Clarke saw her nodding before grabbing the bag and taking it to the trashcan in the kitchen. All the while, Clarke was leaning back in the sofa, watching her carefully. Not making any moves to leave, but not exactly engaging in the playful banter she usually did. There was a slight crease in her forehead, not quite a frown but almost, like she was thinking long and hard about something but not wanting it to show.

Lexa was having an inner debate of her own. The rational part of her wanted Clarke to go home now. Call her driver, walk her out onto the street, thank her for the afternoon and _maybe_ hug her goodbye. The human part of her, however, wanted to pull out a bottle of wine and have the blonde stay for just a little while longer. She wanted to know what she was thinking about, she almost wanted to tell her all those things that she didn’t tell her earlier. She wanted the night to effortlessly flow into whatever it wanted to be – whether that was calling that cab for Clarke in an hour or maybe even falling asleep in a mess of blonde hair didn’t really matter. But in the end, it wasn't her choice to make.

“It’s almost 7PM. Do you want me to call your driver? If you’re sick of me, that is. I could also get us a bottle of wine,” Lexa called over her shoulder, trying to act unbothered.

She counted her own heartbeats and got all the way to seven before Clarke replied.

“I do have work at 8 tomorrow, and there's talk of a possible surgery by noon…”

Lexa just nodded and turned around to walk back over to the coffee-table, where she had left her phone. She wasn’t surprised really – she knew that she couldn’t just treat people like shit and expect them to hang around. But for the first time in a long time, she had actually wanted to let someone in, albeit a bit too late. Maybe she would get another chance though, just not tonight. Clarke’s blue eyes continued to pierce her as she moved. She didn’t face them, she didn’t know how.

Instead she just reached over for her phone and began scrolling for the driver’s number. Just as she was about to call him, slender fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled it down. Taking the phone from her hand, Clarke simply locked it and placed it casually in her lap.

“But I don’t see why that should get between anything, do you?”

Her tone was all but innocent and Lexa had to take a moment before speaking. Clarke caught the slightly conflicted green eyes with her own and they got stuck in an intense stare-down.

“Red or white?” Lexa asked.  
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Clarke replied, arching an eyebrow.

Lexa couldn’t keep this up any longer and rolled dismissively her eyes to break away from their connection. She walked back to her kitchen and returned a moment later with two glasses and a bottle. Pouring up a generous amount to herself (she had to play nice now, so she would need it) and a slightly more acceptable amount to Clarke she put the bottle down on the table and took a big sip from her glass.

“Someone’s thirsty,” Clarke said, not judging but observing nonetheless.  
“This is the only place in the world where I can relax. I’m taking that very seriously,” Lexa said offhandedly.

Clarke just laughed, throwing her head back slightly, before giving Lexa that look once again.

“So… if you feel safe here, does that mean that the distraction-rules have changed?” she asked, not in a teasing way, but still not even pretending to hide what she was implying.

Lexa just snorted and shook her head.

“You have pretty much one single thing on your mind at all times, huh?” she drawled back.  
“Well, not _all_ the time, only when I’m within a 60ft radius of really… intriguing people. What can I say, _you distract me_?”  
“Uh-uh, you do not get to use that line. Get your own.”  
  
Lexa reached over with her right hand to playfully punch Clarke on the arm, but the blonde was prepared and grabbed it. Once again interlacing their fingers she traced up Lexa’s arm with her other hand, scooting closer. Her instincts told her to jerk away and tell Clarke to give her a little space, the way she always did, but her brain overrode those commands and stayed put. _Trust,_ she though. Lexa followed her with her gaze and watched Clarke’s fingers come to a halt right next to an old scar on her shoulder.

“What happened here? It looks just like another…”  
“Gunshot-wound. Yeah, it is. But the bullet went straight through and it healed up nicely,” Lexa replied.

Clarke just circled the little bump on her skin for a while, and when she spoke it was almost a whisper.

“Where did it happen?” she asked.

It struck Lexa right away that she had asked her _where_ and not _how._ Daring to look up she met Clarke’s gaze again, but this time it was soft. How could she not tell this girl everything? The girl who right now looked at her like she was the only important thing in the world, the girl who deserved _everything._

“Afghanistan.”

One word. So simple to say, yet so very hard. She hadn’t said it in years, maybe once or twice in conversations not revolving around her, but those didn’t count. She continued to hold Clarke’s eyes steady, maybe more for herself than anything else, as a way to keep her grounded. It was Clarke that looked away first after what seemed like a lifetime. She looked down at their interlocked hands for a while before speaking up.

“You were a marine, huh?” she asked.  
“Yeah.”

Lexa didn’t even bother to ask how she knew. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that _she did know._ It was terrifying and relieving at the same time and Lexa felt her heartrate pick up. She didn’t know what exactly scared her, being an ex-soldier wasn’t a bad thing, but she was scared that Clarke would ask too many questions too fast, and that it would be too much for her to handle. She didn’t want to share her burden, to talk about the things that she’d seen. So she didn’t ask, but Clarke told her anyway.

“It’s something about your vibe, really. The first time I saw you I was convinced that you were a lawyer, and don’t get me wrong – you still look the part sometimes. Then I thought that maybe you used to be a cop, the way you analyze your surroundings and stuff. But then you came in with that gun shot-wound and you didn’t even act like it was a big deal. And today, when I was shamelessly gawking at that gorgeous midriff of yours, I saw the rib-tattoo. It was really just putting the pieces together after that.”

The tattoo on her rib was the outlines of the marine’s emblem. Easy to recognize if you knew what it was, but usually people didn’t think twice about it. _Usually people didn’t see her shirtless._ Lexa stayed silent for a minute, a small smile creeping up on her face.

“You know, for someone with a one-track mind you do pay attention to some details after all.”

Clarke made a show, placing a hand over her heart and gasping loudly.

“Why, hold on a minute. Did you just pay me a compliment?”

Lexa just rolled her eyes and tried to push Clarke away from her, but the blonde just scooted even closer and clung to her arm.

“If you know me at all you know that I pay you more compliments in a week than I do to the rest of the world in a year,” Lexa complained.  
“Whatever, and the ones about my looks don’t count,” Clarke waved away.  
“Hey, don’t ‘whatever’ my efforts or I’ll might stop trying all together.”

Clarke didn’t say anything at first, she just nuzzled herself deeper into Lexa instead. Lexa tried to busy herself with her wine for as long as she could, but soon fell for the pressure and draped her arm around Clarke instead.

“You do know that I admire you though, right? I mean, yes, you’re definitely attractive. But you’re also way smarter than me, and charming, and perseverant,” Lexa said after a while, sipping absentmindedly on the red liquid.

It was weird, how these things came so easily when she was with the blonde. She never felt the need to compliment people out loud, they knew that if she didn’t criticize them that was a compliment in itself. But with Clarke, it felt important to get those things out.

They sat comfortably in silence for some time, drinking and breathing. Clarke had her head on Lexa’s shoulder and her hand splayed on her bare stomach. The brunette stroked a pale shoulder with the hand that was draped around her. Lexa always had music playing in the background, and she tuned in her ears to hear what song was playing at the moment. It was Leon Bridge’s River, and it fit the moment perfectly.

Then, all of a sudden, they were disturbed by the shrill sound of Lexa’s text signal. Groaning and throwing her head back she most unwillingly took back her arm and started to search for her phone. She was almost immediately interrupted by Clarke dangling it in her face and took it with a quick ‘thanks’. Opening the message her face one again fell into that frown that she mostly wore whenever she _wasn’t_ with Clarke. The blonde who, from her seat just inches away, noticed the change of atmosphere immediately.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, calmly observing.  
“Oh, nothing. Something just came up with a client,” Lexa said, trying to come off as unbothered.

She really wasn’t, though. She needed to deal with this immediately, like _right now_ , and if she’d been alone she would’ve already been on her way to the office. But every fiber of her body screamed against ditching a night with the most beautiful girl on the planet just because some stupid old man insisted on messing up, the way old men always did even if they would unceremoniously pretend otherwise. Staring at her phone, trying to make up her mind, she felt Clarkes hand slowly rubbing her back.

“You need to handle this, huh?” she asked.

Lexa didn’t answer, she just groaned again and threw her head into her hands. Clarke just chuckled.

“I’ll go, you do what you need to do” Clarke sighed, and leaned in to softly kiss Lexa’s shoulder before downing the last of her wine and walking off.

Lexa heard her steps against the parquet and felt her own skin burning where Clarke’s lips had just been. What did the universe have against her? She might have attitude problems, but she gave her _life_ for someone less than two days ago. Wasn't that worth at least an ounce of good karma? But the blonde was still _inside_ her apartment, she still had a chance to do _something_.

She had thought about this many, many times. Clarke was de-facto her client, that was a fact. She had even read through all the contracts looking for something that could have had her call this off before it even began. She had come out empty. There was nothing hindering her from being with Clarke in any sense of the word except for her own morals, and maybe her reputation. But this was her home, her safe haven, her sanctuary. What happened right here and right now was not for the world, it was for her and Clarke.

So, having made up her mind, she got up from the sofa and walked in the direction of the front door before she had the chance to change it. When she reached Clarke, the blonde was just putting on her coat and turned around with a soft smile and a questioning look. A smile that turned into something else as her breath hitched in her throat, and she heard the soft thud when Clarke dropped her handbag on the floor. She stopped when they were a few inches apart, looking into those deep blue eyes for any signs of reluctance. She once again came out empty.

“I’ll do what I need to do. But it can sure as hell wait.”

It all happened smoothly, like it was completely natural. Lexa’s hands found Clarke’s waist and pulled her closer. Clarke’s arms wrapped around her neck. Unbelievably soft lips, the sweet taste of wine and coffee and winter and everything that was Clarke. It only lasted a moment though, because Clarke pulled back. Not completely, their foreheads were still touching, but enough to speak.

“Are you sure? I know I’m a tease, but you don’t have to do this,” Clarke whispered.  
“Actually, I do,” Lexa said boldly.

Clarke chuckled softly before closing her eyes and leaning in again. Lexa desperately needed leverage, so she pushed forward until Clarke’s back hit the elevator doors. The extra pressure gave her extra power and she deepened the kiss even more, fighting for control. She felt Clarke’s fingers dig into the bare skin of her exposed back, and if she hadn’t been biting her tongue she would probably have breathed out loud right then and there. The kiss turned almost desperate, like they felt this overpowering need to reclaim lost time. They could have been doing this for months now if she just hadn’t been so far stuck up her own ass. But that behavior was in the past, now she wanted to focus all her senses on the sight in front of her. The sight that could very well be her undoing someday.

After what seemed like an eternity but not even remotely enough, they had to split for air. Still holding onto each other for dear life, they both breathed like they’d run a marathon. Lexa was the first to finally break away, taking a step back and bringing one hand up to her forehead.

“I’ll call your driver,” she said, once again reaching for her phone.  
“Already done, he’s waiting,” Clarke smirked, waving her phone a few times.

Lexa nodded approvingly at the blonde for realizing that she wouldn’t have been fine with her just walking out into the night all alone.

“In that case, thanks for tonight Clarke. It’s been lovely,” Lexa said, fighting her urge to just kiss the blonde senseless again, but just sounding like an idiot instead.

Clarke seemed less impressed with that strategy.

“Of course it has. I think we’ve already established that we enjoy each other’s company. Now come and kiss me goodnight before I go and stop acting like you just met me.”  
“I’m trying my hardest to _not_ walk over and kiss you again, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop this time,” Lexa explained dismissively.  
“ _Then don’t,_ ” Clarke whispered as she slid closer.

With complete disregard for Lexa's imminent protests, the blonde carefully cupped Lexa’s cheek and stepped right into the brunette’s embrace. The kiss was more passionate this time and less fervent, staying light but filled with emotion. After a while, Clarke broke away and took a step back. Stepping into the elevator, Lexa thought that she had probably never been more beautiful.

“Now go and kick some ass, soldier,” Clarke said smilingly as the doors closed.


	6. I've missed you, is that crazy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so let me just take a moment to give y'all a big cyber hug. Thanks for all the nice comments, I really (like, reaaally) appreciate them <3 I'll try my best not to disappoint!

It had been 41 hours and 23 minutes and Clarke was going crazy. She had wanted to text Lexa something cute the second she left her apartment, the way Lexa always did after they met, but she hadn’t been wanting to interrupt whatever business had forced them apart to begin with. She had been planning to send a good morning-text instead, but then she had overslept her alarm, rushed through her morning routines and made it just in time for her shift. Thinking that Lexa would probably have gotten around to text her something half serious/half adorable by the time she made it out of surgery she cleared her head and focused completely on work.

She had been wrong about that. Lexa still hadn’t reached out to her when she left the OR almost five hours later, and it didn't take long for her mood to turn sour after that. Clarke was starting to doubt herself completely. Had she misread the entire situation? Had she been dreaming? Did coffee and getting cosy and kissing mean something else in Lexa’s part of town? Maybe Lexa was still busy dealing with whatever had happened yesterday? Maybe she should back off, calm down, give her some space and send a text later that evening? _Good thinking, Clarke._

And so, she waited. Around half past 7PM, she sent away a simple ‘how are you?’ and placed her phone (screen down) on her desk, intent on not being _that_ kind of girl. She took a shower, painted her nails, read up on a particularly complicated case, asked her mother for advice on said case, doodled on the back of a discarded campaign pamphlet and forgot to listen to said mother. She did her best to keep herself occupied. But when almost two hours had past, she picked up her phone and found it as empty as her self-confidence (save for the usual group chat-gibberish).

Throwing it on the bed with a frustrated sigh, she grumbled internally for even allowing herself to care. But what was she supposed to do? This was Lexa Goddamn Woods, all pros and cons included. She was anything but predictable, she played entirely by her own rules, which Clarke figured was the only thing speaking _for_ her at the moment. And with that fringed thread of hope she decided that as far as trains of thought went, she would go for the one that took her to a reality where she was simply put on hold for a moment, not ghosted entirely. 

When she woke up the next morning there was still no reply. She had been debating whether or not she should send another text all morning, but while sitting in the back of that stupid car (that only reminded her of the fact that Lexa was everywhere in her life except where she wanted her to be) the wounded pride slowly morphed into anger. Own rules or not, what kind of obstinate ass did this? Clarke wasn’t just some random girl from a bar, at least she hoped she wasn’t. She had spent the afternoon waiting on Lexa, talking to Lexa, fighting with Lexa (for the girl’s own damn best), patching up Lexa, drinking with Lexa and, touching Lexa and – most importantly – being kissed by Lexa. And now she wasn't even worth ten seconds and all-fired text?

Frustratingly throwing her stupid phone into her bag (the umpteenth throw in the past 24 hours), not wanting to see it anymore, she had walked into the hospital prepared for another marathon-shift. Fully intending to drop any thoughts of Lexa immediately she threw herself into the first possible conversation she came across, beamingly chatting with two second-years whose names she probably knew but couldn't remember. She did her rounds and went on to spent the good remaining part of her morning running laps between the nurses station and the lab like the first year she was. It wasn't thrilling work, but it was important enough and most importantly: it kept her busy. After that, however, she was given the luxury of a lunchbreak. A chance to actually sit down and eat in peace - in the cafeteria and not in a closet or on call-room - was a rare thing and usually she would have savored every second of it. But right now, while picking in her salad, she slowly felt the heaviness from earlier return.

What if something was really wrong? Maybe Lexa was in trouble? She would probably not even consider telling Clarke about it, but was it really her responsibility to ask? She was kind of bummed after all, maybe she just shouldn’t care? Let the brunette come crawling back to her in a week or two if she began missing her, and if not, just move on. But who was she kidding, really?

Clarke Griffin, 13:07  
Are u ok? U don’t have to talk to me just let me know

She added that last part after a bit of pondering. She knew it could be interpreted as hostile, but she _did_ feel rather hostile after all. She wanted Lexa to know that if anything (anything _at all_ ) was going to happen between them, this would just not do. Strumming her fingers against the table in between bites of food she patiently waited. This time she had practically demanded an answer, and if Lexa had any dignity left an answer would come, eventually. She stole a quick glance at her watch, it read 13:24. Her break was almost over, she would have to worry about this while in between shifts later tonight.

As she stood by the trash cans to throw away her empty food-containers, she felt a buzzing in her pocket. At first she though it was a text (and her heart did a triple somersault), but then the buzzing continued and she realized that it was an incoming call. She had told Octavia a million times to not call her at work, but the brunette only ever heard what she wanted to hear. Sighing, she pulled up her phone from the pocket of her scrubs.

“This better be important, O. My break is almost over and I’m in a really bad mood,” she groused.  
“Uhm, hey, it’s me. And I’m sorry, I can call you back later.”

Clarke froze on the spot when she recognized the voice on the other side of the line. A wave of mixed emotions hit her like a truck and for a moment, she couldn’t say or do anything. She was relieved, for starters, because Lexa was at least not dead and didn’t exactly sound mortally injured either. Behind that relief, however, her anger only seemed to intensify when she had a voice to direct it to. She brought her hand up to rub her hairline as she replied as politely as she could.

“Oh, it's you. What a _surprise_. I’m working double shifts, so later won’t really work. I’ve got five minutes.”

She could feel the tension all the way from wherever Lexa was to here. Good, she thought. That implicated that the older woman felt at least a bit bad.

“I’m sorry, I get if you’re mad,” Lexa said, obviously trying the waters.  
“It’s fine. It’s not like you owe me anything. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, DC is a big city,” Clarke drawled, not even trying to be nice anymore.

Sorry wasn’t even close to cutting it. She needed a bit more of an effort.

“I’m actually in Fort Lauderdale,” came Lexa’s very matter-of-factely response.

Clarke was surprised, to say the least. But still not appeased.

“You didn’t have to run that far, you know,” she huffed.  
“I’m not running, Clarke. I had to fly down here first thing in the morning, and then I’ve had back-to-back meetings since. I actually just got out of one.”  
“You still could have texted me. Sent a thumbs up, a smiley, anything at all really.”  
“I know, I’m an ass. You have every right to be mad at me, but I’m _not_ running from you.”

She knew that this was probably the best she was ever going to get, and deep down she had already forgiven the woman the moment she had called. So, instead of dropping another snide comment, she softened up. Christmas was only a few days away after all, kindness was the color of the season.

“I’m not mad at you, asshole. It was one kiss, you’re not obliged to do anything. However, my ego got bruised, I’m mildly hurt and I was frankly starting to get quite worried. But I forgive you,” she sighed.  
“I seem to remember two or three kisses, depending on how you count,” came the reply after a second.  
“Do you now?”  
“I do. And I would hate for those to be the only ones, so I’ll do my very best to repair that ego of yours when I get home. And I’m sorry Clarke, I really am. But now my five minutes are up, so you better hurry along, _darling_.”

And with that the call ended. Clarke looked at her watch again, Lexa had definitely been counting properly, she was due to get back to work in two tiny minutes. As she walked back to the surgical wing, she opened the text feed she had with the brunette once again.

Clarke Griffin, 13:28  
Repair my ego, huh?

Lexa Woods, 13:28  
Get to work, Clarke.

Clarke Griffin, 13:28  
I will. But when I get my next break I’m looking forward to a detailed description of how ur planning to do that ;)

She put her phone away and walked back to work with a renewed energy and a bounce to her step. Lexa wasn’t running. She was still an idiot and there was still plenty to work on, but she wasn’t running, and she’d called her _darling_. It had been sing-songed and very ironical, but the word was still bouncing around in Clarke’s head like a record on repeat. Joke or not, someone like Lexa didn’t just call anybody that, right?

She soon had to rid her thoughts of all things Lexa-related again though, because the ER was exploding with car crash-victims (blame Christmas traffic), allergic reactions (blame Christmas food), black-eyed brother-in-laws (blame Christmas family-get togethers) and hip fractures (blame Christmas-weather). She jumped from cubicle to cubicle, trying to treat injuries and calm family members on a rotating schedule. Even if she still secretly despised the ER, this kind of work was almost soothing. It was mostly routine, but yet stimulating, and she could operate partly on auto-pilot while still getting to use her brain quite a lot.

When the clock struck 6PM she got of her first shift and collapsed on a bench in the locker room for a quick snack. She would start her second shift at 7PM, and then work until morning. It would be her last night before Christmas, which was nice, but contrary to most of her colleagues she had nothing against working late regardless. She enjoyed the calmness that settled over the hospital as admitted patients slept and staff mostly hung back in between calls. She herself would man the ER (as usual nowadays) and since it was Friday, it was probably going to be a bit hectic, but that would at least keep her on her feet.

Sliding up her phone she purposely left Lexa’s message last on her checklist, and answered all her other messages first. Octavia wanted to go out for drinks, Raven was up for it but had to work late and Clarke received her usual dose of shit for never leaving the hospital. Lincoln was going to join them, which was the only thing that really bummed her out. She wanted to get to know the guy better, especially now that she had met his colleagues. ' _And now that the only thing on your mind is green eyes, brown hair and unbelievable abs'_ , her brain added for her. Holding that thought, her fingers mindlessly slid over the message-icon and slipped into her secret favorite conversation.

Lexa Woods, 13:31  
Pervert.

Clarke’s eyebrows shot up at this, sure, she was a bit vocal sometimes but that was hardly the word for it. But after scrolling up in the conversation and reading her latest text, she had to admit that she couldn't say that she hadn't meant for that to sound sexual with her conscience completely intact.

Clarke Griffin, 18:07  
Not at all. Unless you want me to be?

She smirked at her own wittiness (because no-one else would) and took a big bite from the energy bar in her hand. Funny, how she was currently employed as a medical professional but still ate shit like this on a regular basis.

Lexa Woods, 18:08  
No, at least not when I’m stuck in Florida.

Clarke had no idea how to interpret that. She knew what she wanted it to mean, but being Lexa, it could also mean something completely different. While hovering her thumbs over the screen to come up with a good response, Lexa managed to send another message, steering the conversation away from all the fun.

Lexa Woods, 18:09  
How was your day?

Rolling her eyes at the way they always went back and forth between playful teasing and forced formalities, she acknowledged this as a way for Lexa to take things slow and steady. She wasn't stupid, she knew that Lexa had a lot to lose by meddling with her, much more than she had to lose herself. She would probably go to ever more extreme lengths to not write anything she could possibly regret, not when Clarke could potentially save it and use it against her someday. Maybe that was why she had called earlier? Be that as it may, it didn’t really matter to Clarke. Lexa had the wheel right now. And she would rather have her slow and steady than not at all.

Clarke Griffin, 18:10  
Same as usual. Tiresome but educational. Slightly stimulating. Next shift begins at 7. U?

Lexa Woods, 18:11  
Hard work, but you’re a fighter. Want to see?

A second later there came an image that made Clarkes mouth dry. The picture was only from slightly above the navel and below, but it clearly showed the gorgeously tan, bikini-clad body of Lexa Woods laying on a lounger, next to a pool, soaking in the last rays of sunshine. Clarke knew that she probably should admire the premises, it seemed like a really nice hotel, but she could only focus on the glistening of Lexa’s stomach, and the toned legs, and _pull yourself together, Griffin_.

Clarke Griffin, 18:13  
How about me on the next flight out?

Lexa Woods, 18:13  
Dreamy, but I don’t think your boss would approve.

Clarke Griffin, 18:14  
U send a pic like that and expect me to care?

Lexa Woods, 18:15  
I could’ve sent you a picture of the piles of paperwork that I have to grind through tonight, but as my doctor I thought that you would appreciate a sign of me taking it easy.

Clarke was pretty sure that was not the reason Lexa had picked out that particular picture, but as everything else about this, she couldn’t really be sure about anything except for the fact that she was falling head first into a deep hole. And she had no desire at all to get out.

xxx

When Lexa walked out of Reagan Airport around lunch on Saturday the first thing on her to-do-list was to not re-make old mistakes, and so she took out her phone and opened the conversation with Clarke.

Lexa Woods, 12:24  
Hey, back in DC now. Text me when you wake up.

Clarke had gone off her shift at 8AM and was probably still sleeping. Lexa didn’t mind though, she had been on a plane anyway, she hadn’t had the chance start missing the blonde, yet. Hailing a cab and setting off toward her office she plugged in her headphones and put on some Frank Ocean. Christmas Eve was only two days from now, and even though Lexa would probably work anyway, other people went on vacation. So, if she wanted to get anything done, today was the day.

She made it into her office without any mishaps and dusted the snow off her coat in the entrée, stomping her heels to get rid of the cold, white stuff that stuck to them like glue.

“Hey Luna, what’s new?” she asked as she approached the front desk.  
“Nothing much, boss. Conrad Daly finally sent the additional information, I attached it to his file and left a copy on your desk. Linc finished reviewing the contracts you asked him to just an hour ago. Echo is still in Baltimore, but she says that everything’s going smoothly. Oh, and I actually saw Emori today! She didn’t speak to me, but I said hi!”

Luna talked at light speed and gestured wildly with her hands as she debriefed Lexa about the past days. She knew that everyone in this office could take care of themselves, so she hardly expected any catastrophes, but it was her responsibility to check anyway. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she sneaked it up to look at the display.

Clarke Griffin, 13:01  
I’m awake! Glad to see that u survived the flight

Lexa smiled at the display, Clarke showed real tendencies to worry about almost everything she did, flights included. It was equal parts adorable and annoying.

“Yeah, right, her father called yesterday. He said something about dinner, but I said that you would call him back first thing today,” Luna continued absentmindedly, chewing on her pen while scrolling through a document on her screen.  
“Whose father?” Lexa frowned.

Luna looked back up at her like Lexa was missing the point completely. Not that it was something unheard of, Luna often understood things that the rest of the world had no clue about, but as far as she knew – Emori’s father didn’t even know that she existed.

“Clarke’s, of course. Mr. Kane? The politician with a gorgeous wife and black, luxurious hair? Whose daughter texted you just now?”

 _'Excuse you?',_ her brain screamed as her body tensed up.

“YES, I know who Marcus Kane is, thank you, Luna. I’ll call him,” Lexa sputtered and walked away.

If Luna formally found out about her and Clarke, that was a slight disaster. Not because she would actually do any real damage, but because she would never, _ever_ , shut up about it. Closing the door to her office behind her, she sat down by her desk and dropped her head in her hands. This was too much. But Luna had promised Mr. Kane that she would call (about dinner?) and she would have to oblige. Just as she was about to press his name in her contact list, a thought occurred. Panic started to wash over her, something she immediately blocked out thanks to years of training, and instead she opened up her conversation with Clarke again.

Lexa Woods, 13:15  
Did you tell your father about us?

Thirty seconds went by, then a minute, then three. All the while, Lexa tapped her fingers in an intricate pattern on the table. Her knee almost started bouncing, which would’ve been an extremely out-of-character-thing, but she focused on her breathing and counted her heartbeats instead. What if Clarke had told her parents? Was this why he had wanted her to come to dinner? To break off the contract, or to have some creepy interrogation-dinner to see if she was good enough for his daughter? She was more than not interested in _any_ of those options, and she frankly didn’t know what she would do if her worries turned out to be justified.

Sure, she hadn’t told Clarke that it was a secret and that was her mistake, but Clarke was a smart woman. She wouldn’t out them, unless Marcus had seen something he wasn’t supposed to see. Lexa thought she had done a quite decent job of not divulging anything in her texts, but she had sent that stupid picture after all. She had felt a bit more easy going than usual and knew that it would be an easy way to get a rise out of the blonde. Clarke had taken the bite immediately, and Lexa might have slipped something about Clarke there with her would have been ‘divine’, but how would Marcus have gained access to those texts anyway?

Maybe someone had hacked Clarke’s phone, found this and used it to pressure her dad? That was a problem in more ways than one: not only did it mean bad news for her and Clarke, it also meant that she had failed at her job. Just as she was about to call Clarke and demand an explanation to her paranoid nightmares, her phone buzzed her out of her misery.

Clarke Griffin, 13:20  
What? No

Lexa let out a deep breath she hardly knew she had been holding, sliding her hand over her honey brown locks. This was good news, even though she still couldn’t be sure. Maybe he had found out and just not wanted to tell Clarke before speaking to her? There was no way she could be sure without calling him.

Four signals went by before he picked up his phone, using the standard ‘my-name-is-a-question’-greeting.

“Hello, Mr. Kane, this is Lexa Woods.”  
 _“Lexa! How are you?”  
_ “I’m just fine, sir. My receptionist told me that you had been trying to reach me?”  
 _“Right, I have! She said you were in Fort Lauderdale? Very nice this time of the year, I must say.”_

Lexa rolled her eyes. Mr. Kane was a nice guy, but he was such a politician. Saying anything and everything _but_ what he was supposed to.

“Yes, I was. Business trip.”  
 _“Very nice, very nice. Well, I was going to ask you to join us for dinner this evening. My wife and I have this tradition of inviting people we have had the pleasure to collaborate with during the year for a small Christmas supper. Now I do understand that it’s a bit sudden, but we would be honored if you would have the time to join us, if only for an hour or two.”_

This was not going the way Lexa had expected, not by any means. Her first instinct was to decline, kindly but firmly. She found social gatherings like this unexplainably boring, and she was honestly feeling more than a bit exhausted. The only break she had gotten these past three days had been that short moment at the pool, and she needed to sleep. But none of that really mattered, because Clarke was going to be there, and that meant that Lexa wasn’t going to make a rational decision.

“Well, I was planning on taking the night off to rest after my trip. But I suppose that a dinner never hurt anyone, so I might just take you up on your offer. Should I bring anything?”  
 _“Oh, Abby is going to be absolutely thrilled when she hears this! Bring only yourself and that will be more than enough. Our house, around seven, dinner starts at seven thirty!”_  
“Seven thirty it is, then. Looking forward to it, Mr. Kane!”

After debating for almost ten seconds who was the most delighted, Lexa felt the need to end her misery and bid the man goodbye. When she dropped the call she had three waiting messages from his daughter, who was growing more and more worried/bummed.

 _Clarke Griffin, 13:21  
_ _Lexa! Why do u ask??_

_Does he know?? He’s downstairs I need to know if I can go into the kitchen_

_LEXA WOODS stop being an asshole!!!!_

Lexa forced down a chuckle and considered the situation before calming the rampant blonde. First she was intending to tell her about tonight, but that would take away all the fun. Instead, she simply wrote:

 _Lexa Woods, 13:28  
_ _I’m sorry, false alarm! Nothing to worry about. I need to work now, but I’ll catch up with you tonight._

Tonight came, at least for Lexa, faster than anticipated. She had pushed on in her office for as long as possible, asking some last minute pre-holiday advice from Indra, filing a lawsuit with Lincoln and filed a report on the last days’ events, before taking a cab home to get changed. She already had a dress in mind. Even though she mostly dressed in darker shades she could appreciate color from time to time, and the color of the night was red. Digging out a ruby lace dress that ended at her knees she finally got to wear her red Balmain’s that had been waiting in their box for over two years now. Her make-up was light, the only accentuating feature being her lips, and she left her hair down.

She called for a car to take her to Spring Valley, and once she had seated herself in the backseat the count-down could begin. As it did, Lexa (per usual) couldn’t help but overthink things. Was this really a good idea? The dinner was innocent enough, and she could always blame work tomorrow and go home early, but not telling Clarke was a risky move. The blonde wasn’t really keen on her not telling her stuff, and even though Lexa hoped on 'happily surprised' she could might as well get bummed out. Another thing to consider was how they were going to act around each other without risking giving anything away. They had to pretend that they didn’t know one another if this was going to fly, as far as Clarke’s parents were concerned they’d only met once and not spoken for months.

Sending away a message to Luna that she was on a _formal dinner_ at the Kane household ( _not_ screwing around with the Kane-daughter) in case anyone tried to reach her, they finally reached their destination. He got out and walked around to open the door for her, she thanked him with a smile and then she walked up the driveway to the front door. It was 7:15PM, so she was neither late nor early, and so far things were going according to plan. Taking one last, deep breath, she lifted her hand and pressed the doorbell.

It opened wide less than ten seconds later, and she was met by a grinning Marcus Kane. The large entrance hall behind him was empty but there was chatter coming from somewhere within the house. Clarke was yet to be seen.

“Lexa! Such a pleasure to have you here, now come in! Don’t want you catching a cold out there,” he laughed.

Lexa quietly mulled that it would take more than a minute in the cold to take her down, but flashed him a warm smile regardless and walked in through the open door. Marcus immediately continued to take her coat and then surprised her by reaching in for a hug. Lexa’s insides screamed, she was _not_ a hugger, but she was not really in a position to refuse either. Instead she patted his back a few times and allowed herself to be led into a big, wood paneled room with a fireplace and walls covered with books. Lexa had been in many houses like this throughout her career, but the system-kid in her still felt a little weird being in a home that had an actual library.

There were maybe twenty or so people in the room. Some Lexa recognized as people working on Marcus’ campaign, other’s she pegged as doctors or members of the board of Abigail’s clinic. Mr. Reyes was there, the father of one of Clarke’s best friends, probably because of his substantial donations to Marcus candidature. They all stood in groups of three or four, talking and gesturing enthusiastically with drinks in their hands. She swept the room one more time but couldn’t find Clarke anywhere. Maybe she was helping out in the kitchen, or maybe Lexa had just assumed things based on the fact that Clarke was off from work tonight. Maybe she had escaped her home this particular evening to avoid all these old men talking about things she had probably heard a million times before.

Her heart sank in her chest for a fraction of a second before steeling herself. There was no sense crying over spilled milk, she could still make an important connection or two out of this evening, even if Clarke wasn’t here. A tap on her shoulder had her turning around to face a middle-aged man, holding out a glass of whiskey to her. She nodded gracefully and accepted his offering with a smile.

“Now, you have to excuse me, but I have never seen you here before. I wanted to introduce myself. My name is John Kaplan, and I work with Abigail.”

He extended a hand and Lexa shook it firmly. He seemed surprised but pleased by this, and gave her a small smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Kaplan. I’m Lexa Woods, I’m the owner of Mr. Kane’s security company,” she smiled.

Now, she would be lying if she said that he wasn’t charming. He had steel gray hair, neatly combed back, and his face was slightly aged but youthful. Lexa pegged him as someone who had been the most popular kid in high school, probably _both_ captain of the football team as well as prom king _and_ valedictorian. He wore a tailored suit that managed to show off a rather impressive physique without being too tight. A small peak on his hand also revealed the absence of a ring on his finger. All in all – he surely meant trouble.

“Impressive, she’s both dangerous _and_ smart,” he chuckled.

 _And you’re smart enough to not compliment my looks the first thing you do, even though we both know that’s what you want to do,_ Lexa thought sourly. But she wasn’t about to cause a scene, she just needed to keep her distance. So she let his comment go, only letting a quiet laugh go before taking a sip off the smoky liquid.

“You didn’t correct me when I called you doctor, so I’m guessing you practice medicine. What’s your specialty?” she asked.  
“Neurosurgery. I’ve known Abby since med school, and when she decided to open up a clinic of her own I jumped at a chance to work with her. She’s the best, you know,” he said, maintaining eye contact the entire time.  
“So I’ve heard. It must be thrilling, neurosurgery I mean, working on the very essence of a person like that,” she inquired.  
“You get used to it. But yes, it’s a rush, and every day I remind myself to be humble before my task. Yours must be quite the thrill itself, right? Are you out there, or do you do paperwork?”  
“I do both, I used to be out mostly, but since I took over the paperwork has certainly intensified.”

Anyone watching them probably didn’t notice, but he was drifting closer by the second. Impossibly slow, yet persistent. Lexa would soon have to back away if she wanted to avoid physical contact (she _really_ did). He didn’t seem to notice her silent resistance and instead continued to ask her questions about her work. What types of clients did she have? Did she have to carry a gun? Had she ever had to use it? Lexa answered politely but curtly, and when he laid a hand on her arm she was rapidly searching for a reason to leave.

Luckily (or maybe un-luckily) for her, the reason was suddenly standing in the doorway. Clarke was wearing a blue dress and had her short hair straightened out for a change. She hadn’t noticed Lexa yet (not like she was looking for her either) and stood close to the entrance, talking to some other guests. It didn’t take her long though to catch a glimpse of brown hair and high cheekbones. First, she just swept past her, but then her eyes did a double take and landed heavily on Lexa’s face. Her jaw dropped to the floor immediately, and by the looks of it someone noticed and asked her what was wrong before she excused herself from the conversation.

The blonde tried to keep a straight face as she made her way over, constantly interjected by people who wanted to say hello, but Lexa saw the sparks in her blue eyes: she was happy to see her. Lexa felt the knots in her stomach untangle, but soon felt them wrap up again. Clarke had spotted Dr. Kaplan, and she seemed less happy to see the hand on Lexa’s arm. Lexa did her best to convey that it wasn’t at all what it looked like, but Clarke had longed her stride and took mere seconds to arrive. Dr. Kaplan turned toward her immediately with a huge grin on his face, unfortunately not releasing his grip.

“Clarke! Finally, you grace us with your presence. How’s Georgetown?” he asked with his deep, slick voice.

Clarke looked like she wanted to push him over, but she reigned herself in and answered with a voice and smile far too sweet.

“John, pleasure. Georgetown is what it’s always been. How’s mother treating you?”  
“Better than I deserve, as usual. Speaking about people way out of my league, have you met Lexa here?”

Lexa had to close her eyes as she begrudged the ignorant stupidity of this man. When she opened them again, she actively avoided meeting Clarke’s eyes for fear of being emotionally decapitated.

“I have, actually. She’s my father’s security provider, _amongst other things_.”  
  
The last part was certainly lost on Dr. Kaplan, but not on Lexa who finally dared to look up despite the venom in the blonde's voice. On the outside, she was still the same, sweet girl she always was. But her eyes was no longer sparkling, they were burning. Figuring she had to do something she spoke up.

“Speaking of which, do you think you could show me to your father’s study, Ms. Griffin? He said that he was going to leave some papers out for me.”

Clarke’s eyebrows shot up at this, and she peered at Lexa for a moment before nodding. She wasted no time in leaving, and turned on her heel with only a quick nod to the smiling man next to her.

“Until next time, Dr. Kaplan,” Lexa said, trying to smooth things over before hurrying after Clarke.

The blonde didn’t stop, nor did she say a word as she walked out of the library and into the entrance hallway. When they were almost back at the front door she climbed a flight of stairs into another hallway. A couple of feet down to the right she opened a door and walked through, Lexa following on her heel. When the brunette made it through she stopped momentarily to have a look around the room. It was large, with a desk, an armchair, a TV and bookshelves. But what phased Lexa was that there also stood a large bed. This wasn’t Marcus’ study – this was Clarke’s bedroom.

"Close the door, please,” Clarke’s deep voice commandeered.

Lexa did as she was told and doubled back to shut the door behind her. Thinking about her alternatives at the moment, she figured that she was better off apologizing and explaining before making any badly-timed jokes about this not being a study.

“Look, Clarke, that wasn’t at all what it looked like. I only met him…”  
  
She was abruptly cut off by Clarke’s lips crashing into hers. Backed up against the very same door she closed a moment ago, Clarke’s hand roamed over her shoulders, her stomach and her arms before landing on her waist. Her lips were soft but not holding back and there was nothing soft about the way she claimed every fiber of Lexa's being. Just as Lexa had found a comfortable place for her own arms, locking them around Clarke’s neck, the blonde drew back.

“My father worried about John stealing my mom from him for years. I’m not about to go next. Are we clear?”  
“We’re clear,” Lexa stuttered breathlessly.  
“And I’m not mad. The whole study-thing was an excuse to get away, I get that.”

Clarke smiled and gave her an approving peck on the lips before walking back into the room. Settling for a seat on the bed, she smiled back at Lexa who was still trying to ground herself by the door.

“Get over here, gorgeous,” Clarke said, beckoning Lexa with her finger.

Lexa just shook her head and pushed herself off the door.

“You better not call me over like that in public, ever. My entire reputation would crumble,” she chastised playfully.

Clarke opened up her arms and pulled Lexa in to stand between her legs. Wrapping her arms around her waist she looked up into the brunette’s eyes with that familiar sparkle.

“I promise. What are you doing here?” Clarke asked.  
“I was invited to dinner by your father, but I can leave if you want,” Lexa said, letting go of the blonde's shoulders in mock offense.

Clarke only pulled in tighter and dragged Lexa down into her lap. Lexa’s insides screamed once again, she had never in the whole history of her entire love life, sat in anyone’s lap. But nothing ever was the way it used to be when Clarke was involved, was it? She allowed herself to relax a bit into the blonde’s embrace and ran her fingers up and down her back.

“I really, really don’t. I just wish I could keep you here all night instead of sharing you with parents and sneaky doctors,” the younger woman said, wiggling her eyebrows.  
  
Lexa playfully slapped her arm and snorted loudly.

“You do realize that you build up quite high expectation with all this talk, right?”

Clarke only grinned and leaned in to place a row of kisses on Lexa’s neck. She felt shivers run down her spine at the feather-like contact and dug her fingers into Clarke’s shoulder to keep her brain form melting. She felt something stir inside of her for the first time in a long, long time. Her instincts told her to use her strength and push Clarke down on the bed without further ado, but the voice of reason was still screaming to make itself heard in her head. Clarke’s mouth ventured further down, kissing a trail along the neckline of Lexa’s dress, dragging her tongue against tanned skin as she went. Lexa bit down on her cheek to keep a moan from escaping, and gently placed a hand on Clarke’s head to softly guide her mouth away.

“If you’re trying to prove a point, you’re succeeding. And no matter how much I want this to continue, it’s past 7:30PM and we’re growing late for dinner.”

Clarke just laughed and went straight back to the task at hand, but as she was getting dangerously close to Lexa’s cleavage, Lexa felt that she had to get up now or she would crumble. So, she rose to her feet, much to Clarke’s dismay, and stood on the carpet by the foot of the bed whilst trying to regain her composure. Clarke, on the other hand, threw herself back on the mattress and pouted.

“Come on, Clarke. I promise that I’ll let you finish whatever you started, just not in your parent’s house with a small horde of their closest associates downstairs,” she tried to reason.

Clarke tried to ignore her for another second or two before reluctantly sitting back up.

“But _when?_ And _where?_ It’s not like I’m going to be able to convince you to stay the night,” Clarke groused.  
“Whenever you want, just not tonight, I promise. And I have home too, right?”

Lexa reached out her hand to pull Clarke up, and it was accepted with some reluctance. She asked Clarke for some lipstick to repair the damage done on her face and they helped each other to look decent before walking out of the room.  
  
“I’ve missed you, is that crazy?” Clarke said quietly as they walked down the stairs.

They maintained a healthy distance now that they once again had to face the public eye. But they were still alone, so Lexa risked a reply.

“It’s only been a few days, Clarke. But no, it’s not.”  
“I know, but it’s like whenever I get you close, you disappear again. The first time we met I had a great time, and then I didn’t see you for two months. Then you save me from that asshole and it’s really heroic, but then I blink and you’re gone. And I’m not even going to talk about you kissing me senseless one day and then not talking to me the following two. I know we text and stuff, and I’m not mad. I just really like to be with you, in person.”

Lexa stopped and turned to Clarke. Looking around them both two and three times she finally slipped her hand into Clarke’s and pulled it up to her chest.

“Clarke, let’s face it – this is going to be hard. If we want to give this a go, there’s going to be a lot off missing involved. We both have crazy schedules and I will have to go out of state every now and then. Maybe I should be the responsible person right now and tell you to drop it, maybe we would both be better off. But I might just be willing to give it a go, give _you_ a go, and I don’t mean that exclusively in a sexual way.”

She did her best to keep Clarke’s gaze and convey what she was feeling through her eyes, despite the potentially horrific pun. The blonde seemed to mull on her words for a while before smiling and pulling Lexa’s hand to her lips.

“I think I might just be willing to do the same. And if patience is what it takes, that's what I’ll try to be.”

Lexa suddenly felt the urge to kiss her and tell her that everything would be alright in the end, but this was not the time nor place. Instead she gave her hand one last squeeze before letting go and following Clarke into the dining hall. They weren’t the last ones to be seated but almost, and initially there seemed to be no two free seats next to each other. Lexa just tried to shrug it off and convince herself that she could find interesting company elsewhere, but Clarke wasn’t having it. When one of the younger men who worked with Marcus got up to go to the bathroom, Clarke immediately nudged Lexa in that direction only to take the next seat a couple of seconds later. They couldn’t really arrive together if they were to pull off this newly acquainted-act.

Dinner began, and the food was out of this world. Lexa found herself a bit bummed every time someone insisted on delivering a speech, for basic manners forced her to pause her indulgence until they were done. She and Clarke mostly conversed in separate directions, Lexa with Abigail and a sponsoring hotel magnate and Clarke with some men that Lexa hadn’t seen before. Soon the main dish was served and their glasses refilled for the umptieth time, but before they could dig in Abigail decided to speak up.

“So, Lexa and Clarke, what were the two of you up to earlier?”

This was most likely a very innocent question, but Lexa didn’t even have to look to feel the indignant look on Clarke’s face. Since the woman’s daughter apparently was not going to help she had to sort out this one on her own, and she carefully looked around only to find Dr. Kaplan on the other end of the table. If he had been sitting nearby she would have had to give Abby the same excuse she’d given him, and that would most certainly have been harder to fake with Marcus’ own wife. Instead, she came up with a new one.

“Ms. Griffin just showed me a dress from her closet. We discussed a few brands and I asked Clarke if she could show me the one she wore for the Christmas Gala,” Lexa smiled, rather pleased with herself.

Abby seemed to buy it without further questions and just nodded approvingly.

“Oh, that’s nice. Clarke’s always been a blue girl, but she’s been wearing more and more green lately. It really suits her, so whatever inspired her I’m grateful!”

After that, the conversations went back to what they had been before. Lexa couldn’t help but smirk at the fact that Clarke had started wearing green lately. She could only speculate, but she suspected it was for the exact same reason she herself bough a sky-blue blouse last week. While she explained to the man next to her how she had acquired the firm after Anya left (something she had done a thousand times before) she felt a hand carefully touch her knee. She almost jolted, but managed to catch herself early enough to disguise it as a cough. Clarke’s fingers snaked higher and higher and settled somewhere mid-thigh, gently tracing circular patterns beneath the table.

Lexa found it increasingly hard to focus on the poor guy in front of her and tried to discretely put a hand on top of Clarke’s to halt her. Apparently, this only triggered the blonde, and soon those fingers traveled even higher. When Lexa felt like they were as high as they could get before this would be considered indecent, she politely excused herself from the conversation to seemingly turn her attention to her plate. Clarke was waiting for her and awaited her with a broad grin once she dared to turn right.

“Can I help you, Ms. Griffin?” she gritted through her teeth.  
“Not at all, Ms. Woods,” Clarke smiled deviously as her fingers picked up their pace, once again trailing patterns way up under Lexa’s dress.

Lexa was about to tell Clarke to kindly fuck off when Abby once again re-claimed their attention.

“So, Lexa. Is there any aspiring Mr. Woods or are you ‘available’, as they say?”

Lexa didn’t choke on her face, something she was proud of. She instead faced the older woman with a smile and a laugh. Clarke, on the other hand, was seemingly once again mortified. Lexa could tell if anything by the sudden lack of physical contact as the blonde finally and forcibly withdrew her hand from her thigh.

“I'm afraid that I'll have to disappoint on that matter. There’s been one or two over the years, but my workload is more than most are willing to handle. I wouldn’t say that I’m available though, I’ve got my eyes on someone who might just cut it,” Lexa explained, trying to sound as universal as possible.

The next few minutes were spent on discussing pros and cons of marriage and work, and Abby shared some of her experience on being a working mother and wife at the same time.

“I’m not going to lie, it was hard sometimes. There were mornings when I would wake up and honestly not know how I was going to get through the day. When Clarke’s father died I wanted to give up and never pick up a scalpel again. But she was so sweet, so supportive, even though she was so young. She pushed me through until I was strong enough to function again, and she continued to support me when I met Marcus and opened the clinic. Without Clarkie, I would probably just have laid down and died.”

A few more people had listened in while Abby talked, and most of them immediately shared their support and awe to both mother and daughter. Lexa dared sneak a glance at the woman next to her, and she found Clarke smiling and laughing at the guest’s compliments. But her eyes were filled with emotion, both sadness and love, and Lexa almost thought she saw them shimmering for a second. Clarke was not about to spill any tears tonight though, so she settled for silent support. Carefully sliding her hand onto Clarke’s lap, she stroked the skin of her thigh with her thumb. Clarke’s own hand soon followed and latched, interlacing their fingers, and they stayed like that throughout the night.

After dessert had been served it was time to go. Lexa offered to lend a hand in cleaning the table so that Abby could focus on saying farewell to her guests. Partly because she felt like it, but also so that she would have a microscopically bigger chance of getting a moment along with Clarke to say goodbye. She worked back-to-back with the housekeeping-staff for a while before rinsing off her hands and walking out into the entrance hall. There was still a few people left, but they all wore their coats and were on their way out.

Abby had already said her goodbyes and headed straight for Lexa. Pulling her in for a hug, she managed to place her hand straight on top of Lexa’s wound. Lexa steadied herself to manage the pain, but when Abby decided to give her a supportive squeeze, she couldn’t help but wince. Abby immediately pulled away with a worried look and before she was able to ask any further questions, Clarke was by their side.

“Mom, don’t touch her arm! She got shot just four days ago and she’s too stubborn to take care of it properly,” Clarke blurted out without thinking.

The chances that Abigail would accept this without question were slim. Clarke seemed to realize her mistake and turned to Lexa with a remorseful wince on her face.

“Shot? Is this true?” she asked Lexa, who could just shrug indignantly.  
“And how do you know about this, young lady?” she turned to Clarke.

Clarke barely managed to mumble something about a colleague telling her, clearly uncomfortable with lying to her mother, before Marcus caught on.

“Who’s been shot?” he asked worriedly.  
“Lexa here! Apparently only four days ago, according to Clarke’s friend.”  
“Shot where?” Marcus asked again, clearly confused.  
“In the arm! Where I just squeezed her,” Abby exclaimed.  
“Oh dear, why didn’t you tell us about this, Clarke?” Marcus asked.  
“Yes Clarke, you really ought to have told us.”  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make Lexa uncomfortable,” Clarke squirmed, not knowing who to look at.  
“Well she sure is uncomfortable now, after your mother squeezed her gunshot wound!”

Lexa’s head turned back and forth as she tried to follow the conversation. Finally, she decided to intervene.

“Look, really, Mrs. Griffin, Ms. Griffin, Mr. Kane, I’m fine! It was just a miscommunication error from my part, I'm the one who should have told you, but I didn’t think it mattered. Don’t blame your daughter,” she said loudly to overpower their combined voices.

They all stopped their chatter to look at her, Abby apologetically, Clarke thankfully and Marcus slightly worrying.

“Now, I really must be going. But thank you for a most lovely evening! Marcus, I’m sure I’ll see you around soon. Abbigail, Clarke, until next time,” she continued, walking to get her coat.  
“Come, I’ll walk you to your car,” Clarke offered, wrapping herself in a big scarf and following Lexa out the door.  
“Thank you for tonight, Ms. Woods, and please don’t hesitate to pop by the clinic if your wound gets any worse!” Abby called as her daughter closed the door.

They walked in silence the first few steps down the driveway to the gate before Clarke spoke up.

“So, I guess this was a really weird take on me bringing you home to meet the family for the first time. I’m so, _so_ sorry for everything,” Clarke tried to joke, mostly coming off as a bit desperate.

Lexa just smiled and stopped to look her in the eye.

“Your family is amazing, Clarke. And I had a really, _really_ good time,” she said, leaning in closer to the blonde’s ear.

She saw goosebumps prickling on Clarke’s skin. ' _It could always be the wind'_ , she thought. Clarke angled her head back so that she faced Lexa again, slowly tugging on her bottom lip.

“When can I see you again?” she whispered.  
“I don’t know, Clarke. Christmas is coming up, but after that maybe?”

Clarke wasn’t pleased with that answer, Lexa had known that even before she said it. But it was the best she could do, and she knew that Clarke understood. It didn’t stop her from pouting and tugging on Lexa’s dress though.

“You promised. Back in my room you promised me that I would get to finish what I started. This time you can’t get out,” she said quietly, sending a new wave of shivers down Lexa's spine.

She knew that they were exposed, standing in the middle of a lit driveway that was visible both from the house but also from the street. So she fought her instincts and pulled away, looking Clarke in the eye one more time before walking off toward the car that was waiting on her outside the gate.

“I’ll most definitely be in touch,” she added over her shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uni's a bitch as always and exam periods are coming up. I'm not excited. In fact, I'm praying for my survival. It will result in one of two things: 
> 
> 1\. I'll be a decent and responsible student and stay off this webpage until the 26th => no updates until then.  
> 2\. I'll have a breakdown and procrastinate => update frequency will shoot through the roof.
> 
> Wish me luck, and we'll see how it goes!


	7. Anytime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again, and sorry for the wait! This is a super super short one, but I wanted to get something up ASAP to compensate for the delay. I'll post the next one/rest of it tomorrow or the day after that, it just needs a bit more work!

The day after the Christmas Dinner Clarke lay on the floor of Octavia’s bedroom, head on Raven’s lap. She had kept her cool and had refrained from texting Lexa like a lovesick puppy all day. But when she got out of work that night all those pent up feelings left her feeling more restless than usual, and when Octavia had suggested a hangout she had been game in an instant. Right now they were sharing a pint of ice cream (low fat, of course, it was Octavia’s after all) and helping their host pick out an outfit for her upcoming date with Lincoln tomorrow.  
  
“I’m just saying, that people only wear red if they want to make an impression. You already got your man, and the black looks better on you. Don’t fuck around with a winning concept if it ain’t necessary,” Raven ranted.

Octavia held up the red one in front of her like she tried really hard to see whatever it was that Raven saw with it, before groaning loudly.  
  
“Clarke, you haven’t said anything all night. Make yourself useful and tell her I’m right!” Raven urged.

Clarke huffed and thought for a minute. Normally, she would have said black as well, but the picture of Lexa in a ruby dress was still etched in her mind.

“Red isn’t always a bad choice…”

She was interrupted by Raven shaking her head off her lap in protest.

“Ow, asshole! I was going to say that the black still probably is the safest choice,” she defended herself, rubbing the back of her skull.

Sitting up on her own accord she once again zoned out from the discussion and began shoveling ice cream into her mouth instead.

“ _Behave_ , you guys. Someone’s phone's buzzing. Is it yours, Rae?” Octavia asked.  
“Nah, mine’s right here. It came from the nightstand, so it must’ve been Clarke’s.”

This certainly peaked her interest and she found herself scrambling toward her phone, almost spilling ice cream on the carpet in the process.

“Who’s gotten into your panties, Griff? I’ve haven’t seen you act like that since college,” Raven frowned.  
“No one, Rae. I’m just waiting for a text,” she deterred.

Clarke just ignored the objections from the feisty brunette and unlocked her phone.

 _Lexa Woods, 20:12  
_ _Hey you, how was your day?_

 _Clarke Griffin, 20:13  
_ _Pretty good. Urs?_

 _Keeping it cool, Griff,_ she thought to herself with a mental pat on her shoulder.

 _Lexa Woods, 20:13  
_ _Decent, but stressful. Just got home, trying to rewind._

Clarke chewed on her lip for a moment. She knew what she wanted to write, but would it be too bold? She heard her friends chatting in the background, _oh_ how she wanted to ask for their advice, but if anything was clear from last night it was that they were still going to keep things secret. Deciding that she was too young _not_ to be bold she made up her mind and started typing.

 _Clarke Griffin, 20:15  
_ _I could help u with that._

Her heart rate picked up as soon as she hit send. Those three damned dots appeared on the screen, then went away again, just to return a few seconds later. Lexa rewrote her reply several times before a white bulb appeared.

 _Lexa Woods, 20:16  
_ _Sounds almost like an offer too hard to resist._

 _Holy mother of God._ She felt her hands start to get all clammy as her heart all but banged through her ribcage. It was actually working?

 _Clarke Griffin, 20:16  
_ _U just have to say the word._

Clarke once again waited a minute, but this time no dots appeared. Feeling a bit discouraged she disconnected her phone from her charger and sat back down next to Raven.

“So how was lover boy?” the brunette asked smugly.  
“I'm telling you, there is no ‘lover boy’, Raven,” Clarke drawled, thankful every time that she wasn't forced to go beyond that white lie.  
“Whatever you say, Griff. But you just grinned at your phone for five minutes straight. There’s something you’re not telling us, and we’re just telling you that we’ll find out about it sooner or later,” Octavia offered with a smug smirk.

Clarke just threw her hands out in a deflating gesture before they moved on to more interesting subjects.

“How’s that new intern of yours, Raven?” Octavia asked.  
“Ah, it turned out that she was straight as a line, just as boring as you suckers,” Raven wined.  
“Maybe you’ll turn her around, Rae. Don’t give up just yet,” Clarke comforted.

 _I’m living proof that some girls are turnable,_ she thought to herself.

“Maybe, but there’s also a boyfriend and a dream about an engagement, so I’m somewhat discouraged,” Raven clarified.

Clarke just patted her friend on her back while they listened to Octavia tell a story about how one of her fellow junior associates had just proposed to her girlfriend. Raven teased her about how it soon was time for Lincoln to start planning and Clarke just did her best to keep their bantering from escalating. Then her phone alerted her of another message.

 _Lexa Woods, 20:30  
_ _What if I did?_

And just like that, the butterflies were back. Was this going to be the night? Was Lexa _actually_ asking her to come over?

 _Clarke Griffin, 20:31  
_ _I would get in a cab._

Once again, those dots appeared and disappeared and reappeared multiple times.

 _Lexa Woods, 20:32  
_ _But would it be really wrong?_

 _Clarke Griffin, 20:32  
_ _I’m downtown already. I’ll be there in 15_

Raven and Octavia was still discussing the marriage issue when Clarke spoke up.

“Hey, I’m getting pretty tired. I think I’m going to leave. But I’ll see you guys tomorrow, right? Christmas Eve at O’s place as usual?” she chirped, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

Both Raven and Octavia looked at her, trying their best to read the situation, before finally nodding and getting up to give her a hug. Saying goodnight to her two best friends she walked out of Octavia’s ridiculously big apartment and closed the door behind her. As soon as she was on her own she all but ran to the elevator and out onto the street. Every second she spent not by Lexa’s side right now was a waste.

Fortunately, hailing a cab this particular evening was relatively trouble free. She had memorized Lexa’s address when she had heard it a few days ago, remembering it partly because of who it belonged to but also because she had been rather surprised. She had kind of expected Lexa to live close to work, or in one of the more anonymous parts of town. But the neighborhood she had turned out to reside in was one of the more free-spirited and creative ones.

The ride went smoothly, save for a few red lights that almost sent Clarke into a fit. Her leg was bouncing up and down like a maniac’s in the backseat of the red car but if the driver noticed her mood, he didn’t acknowledge it. Finally he pulled over on the street next to Lexa’s building and Clarke almost forgot to pay him before she jumped out on the pavement. Walking in through the big, glassed front doors she felt the thrill of the finish line strum through her body. All until it was rudely interrupted by a throat clearing itself to her right. A doorman? _Of course_ Lexa's building had a fucking _doorman_.

A quiet, nice-looking fellow, sitting patiently in his cubicle, watching her waltz through the doors like a madman. She had the decency to look slightly embarrassed as she doubled back and tentatively took a few steps toward him. She barely remembered him from last time, probably because she had been with Lexa who hardly was the one to stop for a chat. It was a poor excuse, but better than none at all.

“Hey, I’m here to see Lexa Woods?” she said, not meaning for it to turn into a question but losing her confidence halfway through. 

He looked surprised, but then a smile crept onto his face.

“Right, you’re that blonde lady from last week, right? It’s rare for Ms. Woods to have visitors so your face stuck,” he explained politely.

Clarke didn’t really know how to react, but she just ran her fingers through her blonde waves and grinned.

“Yeah, that’s me.”  
“Well then, walk right on by,” he said, motioning for her to move on and pushing a button.

She thanked him and hurried along to the elevator. _That wasn't so hard, was it?_ Once inside she pulled out her phone.

 _Clarke Griffin, 20:50  
_ _I’m in ur flat in like, 10 seconds_

Maybe she should have given her a bit more of a heads up? But Lexa knew she was coming, and she hadn’t objected when Clarke said she’d come over, even though she hadn’t exactly concurred either. Soon she ran out of time to second guess herself, because the elevator doors opened up to reveal Lexa’s apartment.

Stepping into the hallway, she almost expected the brunette to be waiting for her. But Lexa was nowhere to be seen, so she carefully moved further in through the corridor and into the living room. She soon spotted Lexa standing out on the balcony outside of the glass wall on the far end, wearing nothing but yoga pants and a tank top. The cold December wind blew in her hair as she leaned over the railing, clearly lost in thought.

Clarke stopped for a second, recording this moment into memory. This was the girl of her dreams, there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind. She silently crossed the room and slipped out of the glass door, stopping a few feet away.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

If Lexa got spooked, she didn’t show. But she was vigilant and ever aware of her surroundings, she probably had heard Clarke approaching from a mile away. The brunette slowly turned around and walked up to her, cupping her cheek. Clarke’s breath turned into small clouds in the chilly air, and for a moment this was their entire universe. Lexa leaned in and captured her lips in a soft kiss. Their lips moved slowly against each other, expressing their want without being fervent. Clarke was a tad surprised, albeit pleasantly so. It wasn't like Lexa to be forward, but she was not about to complain. It only lasted a moment though, before the brunette pulled away to smile at her.

“Hey you,” she mused softly.  
“Hey yourself.”   
  
Clarke recaptured her lips for another kiss, rubbing Lexa’s arms with her hands. She could feel goosebumps on the tanned skin, the only evidence that Lexa felt the cold at all.

“You’re freezing, let’s go inside and get you warmed up,” she said, taking Lexa’s hand and leading her inside.

She followed without protest and allowed Clarke to close the door behind them. She once again took the other woman in her arms from behind and wrapped herself around her. Lazily kissing trails up and down her neck for a while she could feel Lexa’s breath quickening and moved up to kiss her ear. Lexa tilted her head to give Clarke better access and she shifted to press her lips against her earlobe.

“I’m really glad that you texted me,” she whispered.  
“I’m really glad that you came,” came the breathy reply.  
“Anytime.”

Moving back down to explore her neck and shoulder, she let her hands roam down to the hem of Lexa’s top. Playing around with it for a while, she tested her luck and started to pull it off. Lexa didn’t need much convincing and allowed her to pull it over her head, dropping it to the floor. Turning in her arms to face her, the brunette caught her lips once again in a more heated kiss. Sliding her tongue over Clarke’s lip, she was immediately granted access and soon their tongues danced around with each other. Clarke’s fingers moved from Lexa’s back to her newly exposed midriff, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

“You’re so gorgeous it hurts,” Clarke husked to the brunette who just chuckled in response before pulling back.

Lexa stared right into her soul as she took of Clarke’s jacket, carelessly dumping it on the floor before kissing her again.

“And you’re wearing too much clothes,” she replied simply.  
“Now who’s having a one-track mind?” Clarke jested playfully.

Lexa just shrugged before pulling Clarke’s t-shirt over her head. Clarke was in no ways as fit as Lexa, but she had a decent body. She couldn’t help but feeling a little insecure though, not when the brunette was unabashedly staring first at her stomach, then roaming upwards and stopping at hear breasts. Mouth falling open slightly, she wetted her lips slightly in a way that made Clarke swoon before smiling in a very non-innocent way. She seemed to catch herself though, because it didn't take long until her snapped back up and locked onto Clarke's own.

"Now we're even. And can you really blame me?" she asked and leaned in for another kiss.

Clarke sighed in content as she wrapped her arms around Lexa's slender neck. She really could do this for all eternity. Just stop time and stand her, kissing the woman in front of her until she blacked out from lack of oxygen. She wasn't even sure she _needed_ oxygen anymore, breathing seemed excessive when Lexa's mouth pressed against her own. The brunette almost seemed mutually invested in their current activities, at least until she remembered who she was and pulled back slightly, but not farther than that the tips of their noses still touched.

"When did you get off work today? Did you get a chance to eat anything?" Lexa asked, trying to sound like a responsible adult despite her slightly labored breath.

Clarke just rolled her eyes and started kissing trails down Lexa's cheek.

"I'm serious, Clarke. Can I get you anything? Or I could order..."

It was cute, the way she went out of her way to look out for her. But Clarke really wasn't interested in food right now, not even take-out. So instead she pressed her index finger against Lexa's still moving lips and shook her head. It earned her a completely incredulous look and what was most likely going to be a colorful protest, but Clarke kept her ground (and her finger in place).

"Uh uh. Hush. I'm not here to be catered. I'm here because you wanted me to. I'm here for _you_ ," she pressed, making sure that her eyes conveyed exactly what that meant.

She didn't have to try very hard. They stared into each other's souls for a few seconds before Lexa arched an eyebrow, confirming what they both knew was the inevitable next step. Wrapping her arms tighter around Clarke's midriff, she pulled them closer together before leaning in to place her lips right next to Clarke's ear.

“You better come with me then,” Lexa mused before stalking off toward what Clarke remembered to be the master bedroom.

Her mind began racing again. Was this actually happening? It didn't matter that she had all but literally asked for it mere moments ago, did Lexa just tell her that they were going to have sex, right now? She had been preparing for it, hoping for it, thinking of it, _pushing_ for it, but now when it was actually happening she felt that familiar feeling seep through her veins. She was nervous.

This would be her first sober time with another woman, save for an ‘incident’ back in college that she almost didn’t remember and that not even Raven and Octavia knew about. What if she wasn’t good enough? What if she did something wrong? But when Lexa stopped in the doorway, looking back to see why Clarke wasn’t behind her already, all her resolve faded. That look in her eyes was a look of pure emotion and want, and Clarke could not resist it in a million years.

“Get over here, sweetheart. It’s going to be all right,” she said, holding out her hand for Clarke to take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry for the delay! Exams actually went great but, as I'm sure everyone's noticed, the world is a fucking mess right now and I'm humbly trying to figure out how to live my damn life like everybody else. Hopefully I won't fall off the rails like this again anytime soon. 
> 
> And, on a softer note, take care (!!), be nice to each other, don't listen to the trolls and follow the recommendations. Also don't forget to be nice to yourselves, it's okay to not be on your A-game and it's okay to feel a bit down. I'm rooting for you and giving out free cyber-hugs to anyone that might need it! This too shall pass.


	8. Crush on steroids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised: chapter 8, or the second part of chapter 7, whatever you want to call it. It's fluffy and squishy and gross, but we all deserve a bit of that from time to time!

Those green eyes called for her, and honestly, who was she ever to not oblige? She took Lexa’s hand and she allowed herself to be led into the fairly large room that she most certainly didn’t have the attention span to study in further detail just yet. Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke’s waist and kissed her again, and again and again. She slowly started backing them toward the bed, and when Clarke’s legs bumped into it she steadied her grip around Lexa’s neck and pulled them down. With Lexa safely on top of her she allowed herself to close her eyes as the brunette’s mouth started kissing first her jawline, then her neck, then her collarbones, stopping every once in a while to spend some extra time on a certain spot, flicking it over with her tongue and sucking gently.

Clarke’s breathing grew more and more labored by the second, and she tangled one of her hands in brown curls, slowly steadying herself and guiding Lexa to find the places where she needed her the most. Lexa returned up to kiss her lips once more before she slid back down, this time to what many would call Clarke’s best features. Lexa cupped her right breast with her hand, gently massaging it, and Clarke could feel her body react instantaneously. Every touch, every stroke, every kiss had her body and _soul_ on fire. There was only a thin layer of lace that separated Lexa's hands from her skin, and she was pretty sure that her heartbeat could be felt all the way onto Lexa's lips when they pressed against her chest. An impossibly long moment passed as they dragged down, lingering at every curve, taking her in.

Clarke fought as hard as she could to find some kind of reality to hold onto (and not make too much noise), but the warmth that had settled deep inside her core now started to spread, making it all but impossible. Lexa’s hands moved to caress the side of her torso before reaching in between her body and the bed. Clarke immediately arched her back to give Lexa access, and the brunette just chuckled.

“Glad to see that you’re just as eager as I am to get this thing off,” she mouthed into Clarke’s cleavage before undoing the clasp with one hand and pulling it off with the other.

The bra was carelessly thrown away and landed somewhere with a soft thud. But Lexa was too busy reveling in the sight before her to care, and Clarke was too busy basking in the look of awe on the brunette’s face to notice. Guys had admired her before, but none of them had made her feel the way Lexa did right now. To Lexa, she was beautiful, and that made her feel like nothing else. She didn’t wait too long though. Bringing up one hand to cup her left breast she placed her mouth over the right one, and this time Clarke couldn’t hold it in any more. A breathy sound escaped her lips as Lexa tongue lightly flickered over a painfully hard nipple, making Clarke even more acutely aware of her own body. She made a (not so wild) guess and concluded that she had _never_ been so turned on before, and this was only the beginning of the inevitable end.

As Lexa continued showing her devotion to Clarke’s body, spending an equal amount of time on both sides and slowly draining every last bit of Clarke’s sanity, her breaths more or less turned into moans every time she tried to fill her lungs with enough oxygen to _not_ pass out. Clinging onto the sheets with one hand and Lexa’s head with the other, there was a ridiculously high amount of pressure building up between her legs.

“Lexa…” she gasped, earning only a hum of recognition from the brunette.  
“Lexa, I _really_ need you,” she pressed, a bit louder this time.

To her increasing despair, Lexa just moved one finger up to place over her mouth, effectively shushing her. She would have been offended, if not for her body being completely controlled by the brunette pressed against her body. But Lexa seemed to detect her need and replaced her mouth with her free hand so that she was now massaging both breasts with long, slender fingers. She rolled and tugged on Clarke’s nipple in a way that could only be described as criminal as she dragged her lips down to her upper abdomen.

“Don’t _rush_ me, Clarke. This is too good to be rushed,” she said without looking up, she knew that Clarke would hear her anyway.  
“If you don’t rush, I’m going to be done before you even begin,” she tried to emphasize between breaths.

Lexa just chuckled again and moved up to capture her lips once more, sloppily but extremely hot.

“I don’t see any problem with that, we’ve got all night. I’m planning on getting you off again and again until you don’t even remember your own name,” she drawled.

That sentence seemed to wreck Clarke's ability to form words. Instead she just tried her best to produce an incredulous huff that unfortunately came off as more of an approval than the intended affect. She was pretty sure that she was completely soaked by the time Lexa’s mouth had started to nibble at her ear before husking quietly.

“Always so impatient, Griffin. But very well, where do you want me?”  
“Down…” was all Clarke could manage.

Lexa moved a bit lower, to where her jaw met her neck.  
  
“Like this?”  
“Lower…”

She moved a little further, to the valley between her breasts, catching Clarke’s eyes with a questioning look. Clarke shook her head and urged her to get a goddamn move on. Lexa simply continued her teasing, ending up just above her navel this time, licking a trail around and down just below it before staying and kissing the soft skin for a while before looking back up. Clarke was panting by now, barely able to mover her head anymore, but if her whimpering wasn't sign enough of what she needed, she was pretty sure she wouldn't survive the night.

“Where do you want me, Clarke?”

Clarke still could nothing but focus on her breathing, or she was sure she would pass out. But Lexa pushed on.

“Tell me where you want me, Clarke,” she mused.

It was clear that she enjoyed this far too much to go easy, so Clarke mustered up the final ounces of strength she had and spoke with a resolute voice that all but resembled a growl.

“I need you to _fuck me,_ Lexa.”

The spark in the brunette’s eyes almost lit Clarke’s soul on fire. Lexa’s hands abandoned her breast and darted down to her zipper, opening it and pulling her jeans down over her legs, forcing her to arch her back to be able to remove them completely. The look on Lexa’s face was predatory as she smirked down on the writhing body of the blonde lying before her on the bed. She took her time, watching and reveling, before crawling all the way up Clarke’s body to kiss her once more.

“You are, by far, the most beautiful person alive,” she whispered before sliding down the marble skin all the way down between her legs.

Lazily placing kisses on the soft skin on the inside of her thighs, she slowly worked her way towards the center. She certainly took her sweet time with it, and Clarke was about to tell her off once again before she finally bit down on the final piece of lace covering Clarke’s body and pulling it down with her mouth. In a brief moment of clarity, she deduced that this was probably the sexiest thing she had experienced in her life, and any potential nervousness she had been feeling vanished in an instant. The electricity that shocked her as Lexa’s mouth finally found her was otherworldly. She had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep her from screaming out loud, but Lexa immediately reached up to remove it.

“Don’t. I want to hear you,” she gushed before licking greedily all the way up to Clarke’s clit.

Clarke wasn’t in a position to deny the older woman anything, so she didn’t hold back. She moaned and screamed all kinds of nonsense as Lexa consumed her, touching all the right spots with her tongue, fingers digging deep into the flesh of her thighs. As her other hand found its way back to the blonde’s breast, she made Clarke gasp as she pushed inside of her. Clarke’s hand once again tangled in brown curls, pushing her face deeper, desperately wanting more.

The brunette was happy to oblige, but after what seemed like an eternity cut short, even Lexa had to come up for air. She was close to the edge, she had been holding on longer than she thought would be possible but now all her strength was drained. She didn't have to endure for too long though, because the break was a short one. As Lexa leaned back down and continued her craft, Clarke’s breathing was like a freight train. Barely conscious, she forced herself to count the seconds. She wanted to be in the present, to remember every detail of this moment and engrave it on her soul for all eternity. One... two... three... or wait? Did she count three two times?

The slight glitch in her focus was all it took: she crumbled. She screamed Lexa’s name into oblivion as she came and continued chanting it like it was something holy as she came back down from Cloud _fucking_ Ninety-Nine. Lexa mouth never once left her body, guiding her back gently with long, calm strokes, and dutifully cleaning up the mess she had made. When Clarke’s breathing began to settle, she finally detached herself and wiped her face carelessly on her un-injured arm before lying down next to Clarke, wrapping her in her arms. Clarke’s head slumped onto Lexa’s shoulder and she fought against tears of joy and fatigue as the brunette gently stroked her back and placed lazy kisses on her crown.

“That wasn't too bad, was it?” Lexa mused teasingly.

Clarke tilted her head upwards to capture Lexa’s lips in a searing kiss, cupping her cheek to keep her looking at her even after the kiss ended.

"You are the absolute _worst_ sometimes. But no, no, it wasn't. Even though I lost both my sanity and my dignity in the process, I'd do it a million times again," Clarke mumbled.

Her voice was hoarse and tired and her body was numb, but there was no doubt in her mind: she was happy. Lexa just smiled, gazing off into the dark room for a moment as her fingers lazily traced patterns on Clarke's shoulder. Clarke didn't waste the moment, this was one of those rare occurrences where she could unabashedly study the stunning face before her without being seemingly noticed. She tried to make a mental copy of every line and angle, but no matter how hard she tried, she always found herself being drawn into what was maybe Lexa's most captivating feature: her eyes. She allowed herself to get lost in them for a minute, it was almost therapeutic, like lying down in the grass on a warm spring day. 

“I thought I was the one that was supposed to help you unwind?” she finally managed to whisper.

Lexa seemed half-way caught in her reveries, but it took only a fraction of a second for her to regroup into her usual self. Allowing her lips to curl ever so slightly upwards, she just winked at her before turning on her back and dragging Clarke with and on top of her. They once again found themselves exploring each other’s mouths, lazily battling their tongues with one another. Clarke was completely unprepared and almost yelped when she felt first one finger, and then another, enter her and slowly curl to find her spot. She felt her hips starting to move by their own accord, and even though her body still felt like she'd run a marathon she couldn't be bothered to care. This was happening now, and now was all that mattered.

A free hand grabbed her by the neck and pulled her down for a messy kiss before letting them both up into a seated position. She let her head drop back as she wrapped her arms around Lexa's neck, pressing their bodies tighter together. She could feel the warmth of the brunette's breaths against her neck. An arm draped up her back and nails digging into her shoulder. She could feel her heart, hell, she could even feel Lexa's heart. She felt her fingers, their rhythm, and unlike last time she allowed her brain to shut off. She didn't need rationality, she didn't need to think, she only needed _this_ , the rhythm and their bodies in total sync. Her hips followed their heartbeats, trying desperately to reach deeper. She leaned her head forward, buried her face in Lexa's hair and figured that this was probably as close to heaven as it gets.

xxx

Lexa’s eyes shot open while the room was still dark. The first thing she noticed was a soreness in her arm and a tangy smell in the air: her bedroom smelled like sex. Frowning as she tried and put two and two together, someone rustled next to her. She peaked over her shoulder and saw marble skin and blonde curls – _Clarke Griffin was in her bed._

That was the only catalyst she needed for everything to come rushing back to her. Clarke had come over last night, and they had wasted no time. She had fucked Clarke’s brains out five times before the blonde had been completely spent, barely able to open her eyes anymore. She hadn’t scored quite as much, only getting off once, but then again, she was a giver so it didn’t bother her at all. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table, 2:43AM. Clarke had mentioned starting her Christmas Eve at 8AM, so they were in no rush.

Turning over, she reached out to gently stroke down the woman’s arm but stopped only an inch away. Instead she slipped out of bed and into her kitchen. She desperately needed a drink, fresh(er) air and some space to collect herself. This - Clarke Griffin in her bed all naked and ruffed up and beautiful - was borderline too much to handle. She had caved yesterday. Clarke had offered, albeit teasingly in the beginning, to come and relieve some of her stress and Lexa had taken the bait immediately. Then she had panicked, of course, and gone out on the balcony to breath as she slowly freaked out. She hadn’t done anything like this - inviting a girl that she actually cared about and who would expect a call back in the morning - since _her._

But Clarke was infuriatingly perfect in every way. In the way she always listened, in the way she understood, _in the way she screamed her name as she came_. How could she deny herself something like this? Downing a glass of water she quickly refilled it, along with a second one, and returned to the bedroom. She put down the extra one on the nightstand on Clarke’s side (Clarke’s side, really?) and the other one on her own before crawling back under the covers. Not wanting to wake the blonde up she stayed on her side instead of curling up against her like she secretly wanted. But the younger woman seemed to notice in her sleep and groggily rubbed her eyes a few times before opening them.

Lexa recognized the familiar ‘where am I’-look and yet again reached out to touch Clarke’s arm, this time she even dared to follow through.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” she mused quietly.

Clarke eyes shot wide open for a moment before her mouth morphed into a huge smile. She caught herself immediately and tried her best to school her features before turning over to face Lexa.

“Hey yourself. Am I dreaming or am I actually in your bed right now?” she asked sleepily.  
“You’re still here alright. Exactly where you should be,” Lexa smiled at her.

She swore she could almost see Clarke blushing in the dark, so after a moment of hesitation she scooted over and wrapped her arms around her. Clarke tried to adjust herself to get more comfortable but stopped short with a groan.

“Sore?” she chuckled with a smirk.  
“My entire body is on fire, and not in a good way like earlier,” Clarke whined into her shoulder.  
“I’m sorry. I may have gotten a little carried away,” she cooed as Clarke tried her best to mover her limbs.  
“Don’t apologize, I was quite literally begging for it.”

Lexa just hummed and rubbed the blonde’s arm. Soon their alarms would go off and they would have to get up and get on with their lives, but right here, right now, everything was the way it was supposed to be.

When Lexa’s eyes shot open the next time the clock on her nightstand read 4:49AM. Clarke was still sleeping like a log beside her and Lexa was in no rush to wake her, _even if it would have been amazing to go another round before work._ Instead she once again carefully slid out of the bed and disabled her alarm that was set to go off in eleven minutes. Scanning the rather messy state of her bedroom floor in the dark that was an early December morning, she just dragged a hand through her hair and moved toward her closet. Pulling on a pair of shorts and a sports bra she tied her hair up in a pony before sneaking out of her room. She entered the gym and turned on the lights before plugging in her AirPods and putting on some Kanye. It was time to grind.

xxx

The second time Clarke awoke she knew where she was. It didn’t make it any less insane however, and she still had to fight the urge to pinch herself. Lexa Wood’s bedroom, Lexa Wood’s bed and the very memory of Lexa Woods etched deep within her very body. She had come what – four? Maybe even five times last night? That was a fact that was rather amazing on its own, especially given her track record of boys who rarely thought beyond their own pleasure. She kind of felt like that person herself now though, she remembered that Lexa had gone off once, but that was more circumstantial and had very little to do with Clarke. She _had_ offered more than a few times though, only to have be shot down by those amazing eyes and that smile and those _lips._

Speaking of absolute perfection, where was Lexa anyways? It was early, just before 6AM and neither had to be at their respective workplaces before eight. Slightly bummed out over having been denied a chance to snuggle into that strong embrace all morning Clarke rubbed the sleep from her eyes once more before getting out of bed. Her clothes were more or less scattered all over the floor, not to her surprise, but she managed to find her underwear and her t-shirt. Just as she was about to put that second garment on her eyes landed on a hoodie that was flung over a chair.

Thinking it over for a moment, _gosh she was turning into Lexa,_ she finally dropped her shirt back onto the floor and slipped into the hoodie instead. It was navy blue Abercrombie & Fitch and it smelled intoxicatingly like its owner.

Realizing that she desperately craved the real deal she padded out of the bedroom in search of the brunette. The apartment was calm and quiet, showing no sign of life whatsoever except for a few turned on lights that Clarke was fairly certain had been off yesterday. Through the silence the sound of breathing could be heard, almost labored-like, coming from behind a door on the other side of the room. Clarke frowned and walked closer, and when she was close enough to reach the door with her hand, she heard that in between pants was the sound of a counting Lexa.

With her frown now twice as deep and her mind warped into doctor mode she pushed the door open only to freeze on the spot. Was this her life now? Was she ever going to catch a break, or was she doomed to turn into a pubertal, teenage boy three times a day, _every_ day, from now on? In the middle of the room was probably the most gorgeous sight she had ever, and maybe would ever, see. Lexa was on the floor, sweat trickling down her muscular back, executing almost ridiculously perfect push-ups. And yes, _of course_ they included claps. Clarke’s mouth went dry as she let her eyes roam over those slender, long legs, up that damn perfect ass and the curve of her lower back. Continuing over her shoulders and her neck and down her arms…

 _Wait, why had she barged in here again?_ The realization that Lexa was doing push-ups with her nowhere-near-healed arm hit her like a slap to the face and she heard herself all but scream.  
  
“Hey! What do you think you're doing?!”

If Lexa was spooked by her sudden appearance she didn’t show, instead she carried on until she reached a ten ( _asshole_ ) before removing her earbuds and wiping the sweat off her forehead with a towel.

“Well good morning to you too, sunshine! Whatever you’re shouting about, please try not to wake up the neighbours,” Lexa drawled, and Clarke wanted to punch that smug smile from her lips.  
“Will you _stop_ with the patronizing already? You have been _shot!_ ” she emphasized, albeit a bit quieter this time.

Lexa turned around to face her with a slightly less smug look, one eyebrow arched.

“I am aware of that, Clarke. I was actually _there_ , you know.”  
“Great! So how many times do I have to tell you to get it through that thick head of yours?”

Clarke hissed at the brunette as she walked up and put her hands on Lexa’s shoulders.

“You _really_ shouldn’t touch me, Clarke. I’ve been sweating for almost an hour now, I’m gross,” Lexa deadpanned, continuing to circle around Clarke’s fury.

Clarke only leaned in closer, and despite her words Lexa did nothing whatsoever to stop her. When their foreheads were resting against each other she reached up to trace Lexa’s jawline with the tip of her finger, making the brunette shiver as she went. Not that Lexa's let it show, she would never, but Clarke was learning to read the signs. She slowly leaned in even closer, angling her face for a kiss – and then she came to a sudden halt. When she could feel Lexa’s breath heavy on her lips she finally spoke up.

“You have been shot, Lexa. The muscle tissue in your arm is severely damaged. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have a girl with two functioning arms than just one so you better start acting less like an idiot brawn and more like a sensible person. _No more push-ups until I say so, okay?”_

When she felt like her point had been made properly she finally closed the distance and sloppily kissed the idiot in front of her before flashing her best smile and walk away in search of coffee. She didn’t bother to wait around for a response, Lexa was far too proud to give her anything less than a snarky retort anyways. Instead she walked up to the fridge and looked inside. It didn’t contain much, as to be expected, but it was actually more filled up than Clarke had feared. There was a lot of veggies, some eggs, a box of juice and various other items that practically screamed Lexa.

She heard Lexa go into the bedroom behind her, and soon the door to her bathroom closed. As the faint sound of a shower turned on in the distance she took out a few eggs and some toast from the fridge and started to make some breakfast. By the time Lexa emerged, this time dressed in a cerulean dress (that fit her a little too well) and black heels, Clarke was just finishing the plating. She had gotten used to the fact that Lexa looked completely breath-taking at all times by now, but she still allowed herself to stare shamelessly for a moment.

“Hey there, gorgeous. Enjoy your shower?” she said with a smile.

Lexa just smirked back and walked up to hug her from the side. Burying her face in Clarke’s neck and lightly kissing her shoulder before straightening up and brushing a strand of hair behind the blonde’s ear.

“It was nice, albeit a bit lonely. You should have joined me, there’s plenty of space,” Lexa mused in her ear, causing her to shiver.  
“I’m sure there is, but we both know that we never would have made it anywhere in time if I had. Now eat,” Clarke said with a quick kiss on Lexa’s cheek before sitting down by the counter and digging in.

“Eat what? You or the food?” Lexa countered with a completely indifferent look on her face.  
“The food, asshole.”

Lexa feigned offense as she sat down next to Clarke and started to dig in, much more graciously than Clarke. The blonde couldn’t help but chuckle despite her bity tone, Lexa was power and grace but she was also humour, kindness and beauty. It was impossible not to fall for that combination, and Clarke fell fast. The thought of not seeing her for God knows how many days felt like choking. Even though this was the first time she had spent the night she could not imagine waking up anywhere else than here her again, even though she knew that she would have to. She wanted to stop time and just exist within these four walls forever, with Lexa and no one but her. To forget about the outside world, the hospital, her job, Lexa’s job, guns and OR’s and campaigns. She wanted only her and _nothing_ else.

The realization was mind blowing and she had no idea how to deal with it. Instead she took a few more bites from her plate, enough to not make Lexa wonder about why she had suddenly lost her appetite, before she jumped on her feet.

“I’ll just take a quick shower and get dressed, do you think you could drop me at the hospital?” she said, kissing the top of Lexa’s head absentmindedly and trying her best not to look at her.

Lexa just hummed approvingly in response and squeezed Clarke’s hand before the blonde took off.

“There are towels in the cupboard and soap in the shower, help yourself to whatever. If you need clothes, feel free to hoard my closet,” Lexa called after her.

Clarke stood under the scalding water and tried her best to compose herself. This was too much, going too fast for her to handle. Not in a ‘we shouldn’t have slept together’-kind of way, more like ‘there’s not enough time’. She swallowed down tears that began to form and silently scolded herself for being so _damn fragile._ They had only had sex once, after all. But besides being the best sex in her life, it was also almost infuriating to trivialize this like that. Lexa wasn’t about sex to her, she was about so much more, and Clarke knew that even if they would never share a bed again she would still cling onto the brunette for dear life. _Get yourself together, Griff,_ she cursed silently under her breath, shaking her head furiously.

Stepping out of the shower and slipping into a towel she dried herself up and put on the same clothes she had worn when she’d arrived last night. Jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of runners. She let her hair hang loose to dry up, the ashy curls reaching just to her shoulders, and squared her shoulders. She didn't want to show Lexa how weak she was right now, especially since she was painfully aware of how unbothered the brunette probably was about all this.

When she re-entered the room, Lexa was scrolling on an iPad by her living room table. But as soon as she saw Clarke, she looked up and smiled. Scooting back and reaching out for the blonde to come over, she kept her eyes intently trained on Clarke’s body the entire time.

“So, are you ready to save some lives? Regardless, you're going to look unreasonably good doing it,” she said encouragingly as Clarke approached.  
“ _Please._ I’m only dressed marginally better than a homeless person and my hair is a mess,” Clarke chuckled as she walked into Lexa’s embrace and sank down on her lap.

Lexa just snorted but wrapped her arms around Clarke nonetheless, allowing the blonde to rest her face against her perfectly done hair and risking her equally flawless makeup in the process. Clarke knew that she was being unusually cranky (and clingy), but she couldn’t help it, it was god damn justified.

“This is so depressing,” she whined into Lexa’s scalp.  
“Okay, so maybe not the words I was hoping on the first ‘day after’?” Lexa countered, this time with a slightly more reserved tone.

Her hands, that had been rubbing circles on Clarke’s skin, stilled and Clarke pulled back to stand on her feet. Running both hands through her damp hair she peeked down on the brunette with an excessive sigh.

“You _know_ that I was on cloud nine throughout the whole thing, Lexa. You’re mind-blowing. Amazing. A total goddess and a million other things that I chanted like a maniac in your ear last night. That’s not what I mean.”

Lexa’s face lost a few of the sharp edges upon hearing that, but she still had a crease between her eyes as she reached up to take Clarke’s hand, urging her to continue.

“God, I don’t even know where I’m going with this and you’ll think that I’m just some stupid child. But I don’t know how to deal with this, Lexa. I don’t know how to deal with how you’ve just swept in from nowhere and _completely_ commandeered my entire life. I think about you _constantly_ and that’s super disturbing but still the most comforting thing in the world. And now I’ve finally had you for real, and that’s it? When will I see you again? And don’t tell me that I’m supposed to _deal with the waiting_ because I already miss you and you haven’t even dropped me off yet.

I don’t even know how I ended up like this? I’m a grown valedictorian medical intern from Spring Valley, a _straight_ valedictorian medical intern, and here I am – totally embarrassing myself in front of my father’s associate, also known as the embodiment of style, beauty and control – because I’m having some kind of crush on steroids on her _and_ she’s looking at me like I’ve completely _lost my mind_.”

Clarke was almost a bit out of breath when she finished her rant. Lexa’s mouth had been slightly ajar during the height of the storm but was closed now, leaving her face deep in thought. Looking down at her hands for a moment she finally sighed before petting the spot beside her. Clarke sighed again and dropped down, feeling too drained to be embarrassed and trying her best to prepare herself from what might as well be a break up-speech coming from her right. There were another few quiet moments before Lexa finally turned to her and spoke up.

“Okay, so that was many words in not so many seconds. But first of all, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I wreaked havoc to your life like that, it was never my intention to make it any more difficult. Furthermore, I’m far from what you paint me out to be. I’m not the embodiment of grace. I’m weathered down, emotionally shut down, guilt ridden and constantly bummed-out. I never in my wildest dreams thought that I would feel like this again.

Maybe I should have turned you away that night at the gallery, but there's something _so_ special about you. So, I didn’t, and now we’re here. I take full responsibility for my actions, and once again I’m sorry. If you want to walk out right now, I’m not going to stop you and I won’t blame you. If you don’t then yes, and I've said it before, there’s going to be missing involved. Missing and planning and hiding, and it will probably be infuriating from time to time. But to me – it's worth it.”

By the time Lexa had finished talking Clarke felt even more like crying than she had before. All the anger had just disappeared - or no - she had thrown it onto Lexa, who in turn had absorbed it and was now _apologizing_ for something she hadn’t even done. Talk about _screwing up_. She turned, almost desperately, to scoot almost impossibly closer and cup Lexa’s soft cheek in her eyes. She couldn't help but look for forgiveness in those green eyes, but she knew that to Lexa there was nothing to forgive.

“It’s not your fault. It’s really _not_ your fault, Lexa. I’m sorry for lashing out, but I feel like I’m choking on my feelings and it’s scary as hell. I’m not going to walk out, I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Even if you’re just an emotionally shut down bummer, you’re _my_ emotionally shut down bummer. And you’re so, _so_ important.”

Lexa just chuckled and reached down to kiss her languidly on the lips, radiating softness and kindness in a way that made Clarke’s head swoon.

“And you’re my what? _Stupid child?_ ” she jested with a smug smile.  
“Please don’t call me your child, ever. I still don’t know how old you are, but you’re definitely not old enough,” Clarke mulled back, slightly nauseated by the mock nickname.  
“Okay, I won’t. So, Miss ‘ _straight_ valedictorian medical intern’…”

Clarke groaned into Lexa’s shoulder, _of course_ this is what she held on to.

“… was yesterday your first girl-on-girl? In that case, I have to say that I’m almost impressed,” Lexa mused in her ear.

The familiar shivers once again ran down Clarke’s spine and she tried to swallow down that feeling deep inside her core.

“I think that it’s safe to say that you bent whatever straight there was pretty quickly. But will you still be impressed if we revise that statement to first sober time?”  
“I’ll take it, even though it would have been an honour to be the one to break you in.”  
"Okay, _gross_."

Lexa laughed and turned to kiss her again, still rather lazily but still with a lot of passion. Clarke kissed back eagerly until the brunette broke away.

“However much I love our heart-to-hearts, we have to go. I won’t have my stupid child being late on Christmas Eve, that’s not the spirit we want to convey,” Lexa almost chirped in a very un-Lexa like fashion before jumping up and gathering her stuff in a handbag.

Clarke didn’t bother hiding how unamused she was by this, but got up and pulled on her coat that still laid thrown on the floor by the balcony door. Pulling on a beanie over her ash-blonde curls she waited by the door as the overly-organized, beautiful creature made her final preparations before sliding her hand into Clarke’s and walking into the elevator.

Clarke tried her best not to show it, but as Lexa’s fingers interlaced with hers she could just as well have fainted on the spot. This time they didn’t stop at the entrance floor but instead rode the elevator all the way down under ground and into the garage. Lexa’s BMW stood waiting on them and made a perky sound as Lexa unlocked it. Clarke jumped into the passenger seat and was ordered to act DJ. Scrolling through her winter playlist she finally settled on the Pretenders' 2000 Miles, it was Christmas after all. The time was only 7:30AM so they were in no hurry, and Clarke found herself silently pumping her fist every time they encountered a red light.

Pretty early on Lexa had held her hand out for Clarke to take once again, and now their interlocked fingers rested comfortably on Lexa’s lap. This entire morning, save for Clarke’s little outburst, had been oddly domestic. And the weirdest thing about it was that it didn’t even feel _that_ odd, the right phrasing for it was rather ‘oddly normal’. Lexa working out, Clarke making breakfast, them stealing kisses and glances and driving together to work – it wasn’t too hard to dream about a future that looked exactly like that. But moving in together was a hundred steps away, even for this to become a regular occurrence felt distant, so Clarke brought herself out of her reveries and directed her attention onto more urgent matters.

“Hey Lexa, honestly this time, I really need you to look after your shoulder from now on. When I said no straining, I really meant that, you shouldn’t even work out until it’s pulled itself together more. And if you _have_ to, go a few miles on the treadmill or bike. No lifting or pushing or pulling, okay?”

Lexa didn’t seem very happy about the re-tour to that subject, but she kept from making her usual face. Instead she just sighed and gave Clarke’s hand a squeeze.

“Okay. Only because the cutest doctor in town tells me to, I’ll try. I promise.”

Clarke just brought up their hands to her face and kissed Lexa’s knuckles in response. Even though it hardly felt justified, she trusted the brunette. She probably wanted to lose function in her arm even less than Clarke wanted her to. Far sooner than she would have liked, the car pulled in in front of the hospital. Turning over to look at Lexa, she found the other woman staring out of the window and tapping the steering wheel with her ring-clad fingers.

“You were right. This is slightly depressing,” Lexa mumbled with a sigh.  
“Hey, Lex, look at me.”

Lexa turned toward her with a sad smile before slowly leaning in. For once, she only seemed mildly bothered by the fact that people eventually could see them.

“No one’s called me that in a long time. It’s nice,” she whispered against Clarke’s lips before capturing them in a soaring but short kiss.

Clarke kissed back with all that she had, desperate to convey everything she was feeling. Lexa was the one that broke away first, leaning back enough for Clarke not to be able to recapture her but not letting go of her hand.

“I’m gonna miss you, Clarke. Now get out while you still can and kick some surgeon ass for me,” she jested.

Clarke pouted like a child, she knew it, but leaving Lexa felt like leaving home for a really long and tedious journey.

“Please don’t vanish off the face of the earth or something. Stay in touch. Text, call, whatever. Just _please_ don’t subject me to god knows how long without your dry tone and horrible sense of humor,” Clarke almost begged.

Lexa just shook her head in mock disbelief before playfully all but shoving Clarke out of her car. Eventually Clarke relented, but not after steeling another kiss and making a lot more of a scene than necessary.

“I’m really going to miss you, Lexa,” she said attentively, standing on the sidewalk with one hand on the door.  
“I’m going to miss you too, dear. Now go, or you’ll be late,” Lexa urged with a reassuring smile.

And so, Clarke slammed the car-door shut and took a step back. She watched as Lexa pulled away before turning to walk up to the entrance with still a few minutes to spare. As she was changing out of her clothes and into her scrubs she noticed an unknown item in the bottom of her handbag. Pulling it out, she held up Lexa’s hoodie in front of her. Seeing it almost made her want to cry, it was a small gesture, but from someone like Lexa it meant the world. Carefully putting it back in her back and safely placing it inside her locker she checked her phone one last time before going on her shift. The message on her screen brought a smile to her face, and it was as true as it had ever been: Clarke was falling hard.

 _Lexa Woods, 07:56  
_ _I’m 29 by the way. Merry Christmas. xx_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this fic is turning out to be a long one, but we're almost at the half way mark by now. Thanks again for all the nice comments, you're such decent fellas and more than I could ever deserve!
> 
> Take care, be nice and wash your hands. À bientôt!


	9. I know what I want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, staying on schedule and everything! A bit of a slow one - I admit - but we can't just completely indulge ourselves in unfiltered suspense all the time, that would be heresy.

_Clarke Griffin, 16:42  
_ _Uncle steve is going to b the end of me. I hate my family._

 _Lexa, 16:48  
_ _No, you don’t. And Steve would be nicer to you if you just didn’t take every chance to piss him off._

 _Clarke Griffin, 16:49  
_ _You haven’t met him, u don’t know what it’s like_

_I miss you._

_Lexa, 16:52  
_ _I’m sure you’ll push through. And I miss you too, Clarke._

 _Clarke Griffin, 16:52  
_ _What if I ditch this and come over to your place instead?_

 _Lexa, 16:53  
_ _Good luck explaining that one to your parents. Besides I’m going out of town tomorrow morning, so it would be an early night and an even earlier morning._

 _Clarke Griffin, 16:54  
_ _Out of town where??_

 _Lexa, 16:55  
_ _Vancouver._

“You’re going to _Canada_?” Clarke’s voice hissed over the line.

The sheer audacity of Lexa skipping town, leaving her here all alone without any chance to escape from the Christmas chaos, made her turn her back on yet _another_ family gathering and sneak out on the balcony and call her up. Lexa, assumingly sitting with her phone in her hand, picked up immediately.

“ _Thanks for the geography lesson,”_ Lexa drawled at her through the phone.

She could practically hear the brunette’s eyes rolling circles around her obviousness, but she couldn’t contain herself.

“To the _wrong side_ of Canada?!”  
“ _I wasn’t aware that there was a wrong or a right side, Clarke.”_

Lexa’s tone was still condescendingly uninterested, but Clarke could hear a small smile forming on her lips.

“The wrong side is wherever’s the farthest away from me, idiot. How did I not know this?” Clarke whined.

She was aware that she was being a child right now. They had been on one (amazing) date and had sex one time (or five, depending on who’s counting), that hardly qualified her for asking these questions. But she had, and she wasn’t feeling half as ashamed as she probably should. Lexa stayed silent for a moment before sighing.

“ _I guess I just didn’t think to tell you, I’m sorry, Clarke. I’m used to only minding my own business,_ ” she replied softly, most of the bite gone from her voice.  
“No, I’m sorry. It’s not my place to demand things like that from you. It’s just that I thought... that maybe we could meet up or something? You know, drink hot chocolate and watch the ice skating? But your work is important, I get that.”

Lexa fell quiet on her end of the line. Clarke looked out over the neighbourhood and stretched out a hand from under the roof to catch a snowflake. It melted away as quickly as it landed.

“How long will you be gone?” she asked after what seemed like an eternity.

Once again there was a pause before she answered.

“ _About a week. And then I might go down to Seattle for another few days._ ”

Clarke’s heart sank. Lexa would be gone until after New Year’s. She knew it was silly and probably even naïve of her to assume, but she had painted this picture in her mind that if she only survived Christmas Day with her family, they could spend the rest of the holidays together. When they weren’t working, that is, but still. She had been looking forward to watching cheesy movies in bed, ordering far too much take out and cooking Lexa breakfast. To grabbing a coffee at that hole in the wall on 18th street, nagging about Lexa's shoulder. A New Year’s kiss.

“Oh, okay then,” was all that she could muster up without revealing the small hole in her chest.

She was starting to get a bit cold out on the snowy balcony, and if Lexa was just going to sit there with a thirty second-pause after every word Clarke said she might just hang up. She could use about three full cups of eggnog and some crappy music to forget about it, just for now.

“Hey Lex…”  
“ _It’s actually not work,_ ” Lexa cut her off just as she was going to end the call.  
“Huh?”  
“ _It’s not a work trip. I go to Vancouver every year around Christmas for personal reasons. It doesn’t matter why, it’s just something I do. And then I usually go home to Seattle for a few days when I’m on the right coast._ ”

Clarke’s eyebrows shot up. First of all: this was the first time Lexa had mentioned _anything_ personal, except for the marine thing which Clarke had all but forced out of her. Second of all:

“You’re from _Seattle_?”  
“ _You really have to stop being so surprised about everything, Clarke,_ ” Lexa snorted.  
“ _But yes, I’m from Seattle. I actually only moved here after I got out of the military.”_

Clarke didn’t know how to react to any of this. She figured it wasn’t that weird, really, she had just assumed that Lexa was a Washington-girl through and through, just like herself. _The right kind of Washinton-girl._

“Seattle’s nice,” was the only thing she managed to come up with.

She seriously had to brush up on her small talk.

“ _It is. And you should go back inside, it’s freezing out. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”  
_ “Oh, okay. Have a safe trip, I guess.”  
 _“Goodnight, Clarke. And Merry Christmas.”_

xxx 

“Okay, snap out of it.”  
“Snap out of what?!” Clarke frowned irritably at her friend.  
“You’ve been all down in the dumps all week, and that’s fine. But tonight is _New Year’s Eve,_ Clarke! Being gloomy will just not cut it,” Raven said whilst all but shoving her blonde friend out of the kitchen and onto the makeshift dancefloor in Bellamy’s apartment.

“I’m not gloomy, Raven. I’m just not in the mood, and last time I checked that’s not a crime,” she deadpanned.  
“It is if your name is Clarke Griffin. You _are_ the party, and I’m not even exaggerating when I say that half of the people here tonight are here to catch a glimpse of you. You look gorgeous, honey, let them see you!”

Raven had a point. The old Clarke wouldn’t have spent more than maybe five minutes in total standing in the fucking _kitchen,_ but the new Clarke had spent the better half of the entire party in there. Casually talking with friends, some new and some old, even making the occasional new one.

She wore a black, sparkling dress that clung to her like a second skin. Her smoky and glittering eyes were nothing short of perfect and her ash blonde locks fell in sculptured waves down the outlines of her face. Yet she wasn’t in a party mood and she didn’t want _people_ to see her. She wanted _her_ to see her, but _she_ was probably standing on a stupid ferry boat right now. At least that's what they did in Grey's Anatomy.

This was ridiculous.

Allowing her best friend to guide her onto the floor despite her protests she unenthusiastically started to sway along with the heavy bass flowing out of the speakers. It wasn’t a hard thing to do, it was so crowded that she only had to allow herself to be moved by the mass of bodies too look like she was having the time of her life, just like the rest of them. Chugging down the last of her drink she looked down on her phone for the umptieth time this evening. Still no messages.

Lexa had said that she was on a personal trip, whatever that meant. But it made Clarke a bit more hesitant to reach out. She didn’t know what the brunette was up to, and really didn’t want to impose or disturb. So, she waited. Lexa would reach out to her once every two days or so, but it would generally be short and pretty formal. A ‘how are you’ followed with a ‘I miss you too’, sometimes with a picture or two but always on her surroundings and never on herself. Clarke was pretty sure that she was doing it only because Clarke had practically begged her to stay in touch.

Feeling too hot and claustrophobic in the middle of the crowd she pushed herself out and leaned back against the nearest wall. She was debating with herself whether she should get another drink or cal an uber when she felt a presence in front of her.

“So, what is a girl like you doing, playing wallflower all by herself?”

The deep, slightly disdainful voice belonged to tonight’s host: Bellamy Blake. He was Octavia’s older brother and her self-proclaimed protector. Clarke was frankly dead tired of him and had been since seventh grade, but his ego was fragile and his temper volatile, so she usually didn’t pass on.

“I’m just cooling off, the dancefloor is _literally_ burning up,” she said with a routing fake-smile.  
“Understandable, this place isn’t made for parties like this. How about you join me on the balcony instead? I know you’re not a smoker, but I’ve got some good stuff for you,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

 _Idiot._ But it was 11.20PM, if she'd made it this far she might as well stay until midnight. Weighing her options she finally sighed and squared her shoulders with another bright smile.

“Hard pass. But make me a Hugo and I’ll keep you company,” she offered.

Bellamy just nodded with a smile before disappearing to the kitchen. Clarke stepped out on the living room-balcony and took a deep breath of the crisp air. Her phone buzzed in her purse, and she slid it out into her hand.

 _Lexa, 23:32  
_ _You’re probably at some cool party and will probably not see this until tomorrow, but I hope that you’re having fun. You’re the best thing that happened to me this year. Happy New Year’s. xx_

Clarke could do nothing but stare at her phone for almost a minute, but when she was almost ready to wrap her head around what she had just read, Bellamy was back.

“Hey there, Griff. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, you alright?”  
“Yeah, yeah. I just got a really… weird text. That’s all,” she mumbled just loud enough for him to hear.

Weird wasn’t really the word for it. Or well, it _was_ a bit weird coming from Lexa, but maybe she had been drinking a bit – 'tis the season after all. It was more of a total emotional punch to her gut that sent her flying way above cloud nine. She doubted she would ever come down again, and the night suddenly felt a lot less meaningless. She wanted to reply straight away, but she also didn’t want to have to explain anything to Bellamy. And it wasn’t like Lexa was expecting an instant reply anyways. So, she slid her phone back into her purse and snatched her drink from Bellamy’s hand. Taking two big gulps from it she peered up at him with a newfound glint in her eye.

If he noticed the change in her behaviour, he didn’t say. Instead he lit up his spliff and let out a huge cloud of musky smoke seconds later.

“So, Clarke, what do you know about this Lincoln-dude?”

Clarke barely resisted rolling her eyes. Of course this was the first thing he asked her after not seeing each other for almost two months. Bellamy was known for having notorious difficulties with Octavia’s various boyfriends over the years. He would interrogate them, scare them and on really bad days threaten them with all kinds of brutish behaviour and Clarke was really happy that Octavia had finally found someone who looked like he could stand his ground.

“He’s a nice guy. He works for Le… my dad’s security company, and he’s a really good lawyer. I think he’s good for her.”

 _Close one, Clarke._ Bellamy seemed to consider this for a moment while taking another deep drag. After a while he just nodded with a snort.

“Alright, Griff. If you say so! I still want a word with him though, and if I ever hear anything…”  
“He’ll pay for it. We all know you, Bell,” she finished for him with a drawl.

This was a boring conversation. Clarke wanted to leave, go find Raven or Octavia or Lincoln or maybe even go home. She _knew_ she couldn’t do that, but if she had to stay then she at least didn’t want to be stuck on a balcony with Bellamy. Taking a deep swig from her drink she was just about to excuse herself.  
  
“He sure will. And as if that wasn’t enough, I heard that you’re seeing some mystery guy, what’s that all about?”

 _'Mystery guy’_ made her want to laugh out loud. Lexa was mysterious enough, but not a guy and surely not the kind of person Bellamy seemed to have in mind. Him trying to take on Lexa in a fight would have been a sight though, she was pretty sure that even though he was considerably bigger he wouldn’t stand a chance. The comical aspect aside, the fact that there was water on the rumour mill was slightly discerning.

“Calm down, Bellamy. There’s no mystery man, that much I can guarantee you,” she smirked at him.

Once again, it felt good not having to _actually_ lie. It was maybe bending the truth a little bit, but that was allowed as far as Clarke was concerned.

“That’s not true if you ask my sister,” he countered with raised eyebrows.  
“Well your sister’s got a big mouth and a vivid imagination, bless her soul,” Clarke cut back.

Bellamy didn’t argue against that, instead he just chuckled and shrugged his shoulders before taking another drag.

“Speaking of, I should probably go find her, I haven’t seen her in ages. See you around, Bell,” she continued before sauntering off the balcony.

The heat in the living room struck her like a brick-wall, and she took a moment to ground herself before she started scanning the perimeters for a familiar, short brunette. It took her a few minutes, but she found Octavia in a corner, talking to (or rather consuming) her boyfriend. She cleared her throat a few times to politely try and separate them and make her presence known.

Lincoln acknowledged her about half a minute before Octavia did and was left awkwardly trying to break free from his slightly clingy girlfriend. When he finally managed to create some distance, Octavia pouted grimly at him before she followed his line of sight. Clarke smiled at her friend, she _was_ truly happy for her. And even though she was being a child right now she knew deep down that if Lexa had been here, she herself would have acted the same way. Just a bit more… not in the open.

“Clarkee!! Where have you been?” the small brunette shrieked as she laid eyes on her best friend.  
“Out on the balcony, having a pleasant conversation with your brother,” she drawled.

Octavia grumbled, she was her brother’s sister after all, and Clarke didn’t have to tell her what had been discussed out in the cold winter air.

“He’s a dick. He knows nothing at all and he’s talking about things that he doesn’t understand,” the Blake-girl growled to no-one in particular.  
“Well, actually that seems to be a family trait,” Clarke scolded playfully.

Looking up over Octavia’s shoulder she called out to Lincoln, who was casually leaning against a doorframe.

“Hey Lincoln, do you mind giving us a minute, I need to talk some sense into my friend here.”

Lincoln just made a non-committal gesture and said something about being in the kitchen if they needed him. All the while Octavia had a pained expression, she knew Clarke well enough to know that she had screwed up, even if she probably had no clue about what.

“O, why is Bellamy asking me about ‘mystery men’?” Clarke asked her friend with raised eyebrows.

Octavia’s face morphed from confused to surprised and then settled into a mixture between a smirk and a wince.

“Oh, yup. That might have been me. But I won’t take full credibility, Raven was also there!”

Clarke just shook her head, double friendships meant double joy but also double trouble.

“We went out on boxing day, remember that night when you couldn’t join us because Marcus’ mother was in town? Well, we went to Skai and we were a few beers in when Bellamy starts to rant about Lincoln. And thank _God_ that Linc couldn’t make it because _that_ would’ve been embarrassing, dealing with Bellam…” Octavia’s eyes started to drift as she slowly lost herself in all the tiny, unimportant details (as usual).

“Octavia. Focus”

“ _Right,_ well he was pissing me off and so I told him that he was being a dick. Then he said that he was only worrying because I was dating so many boys that he couldn’t keep track of them, as the misogynistic tramp he is, and that’s when I told him that I’m 24 and not the only one here who’s dating people. And then he said that none of my friends are dating anyone right now, and that’s when I mentioned how I really thought that you were seeing someone but I didn’t know who because you’re being really secretive. I’m sorry if I overstepped, and that you had to deal with my stupid brother.”

When Octavia finally got to the point Clarke had lost whatever annoyed feelings she had been carrying towards the brunette when she found her. Partly due to Octavia’s reasoning being fairly logical and partly because of the time spent listening to the obscenely long narrative.

“It’s okay, it really is. I just wanted to know what's up, that’s all. And dealing with Bellamy is something I’ve had to put up with since the day I met you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said, smiling warmly at her friend before pulling her in for a hug.

Octavia’s chin rested comfortably upon her shoulder for a while, and just as Clarke was about to pull them apart and take them to find Raven and Lincoln, the brunette whispered in her ear.  
  
“But since we’re on the topic, you _are_ seeing someone, aren’t you?” she mused with glee lacing her voice.  
  
Clarke wanted to pretend that she didn’t hear her over the loud music, but instead she just swatted lightly at her arm and took her hand. Pulling them away towards the dancefloor she felt grateful that she had such great people in her life, people that really cared, even if they were assholes from time to time. Grateful enough to throw her friend a bone.

“I guess only time will tell,” she said over her shoulder with a wink.

Clarke bit her lip as the signals echoed empty in her ear. She knew that it was late, but it was New Years and there was a chance that Lexa was still up. And even if she wasn’t, Clarke knew that she slept with the signal on, and she was almost prepared to be selfish enough to wake her up just to hear her voice.

She had left the New Year’s party shortly after midnight, blaming fatigue after a long week and it was only partly a lie. She also felt like she could use some much-needed time alone, even if that short time was spent in the back of a cab, cruising through the city at the very birth of the new year. She had begun to compose a reply to the text she had gotten from Lexa earlier in the night, but she really wanted to hear her voice. She hadn’t since Christmas day, and that was almost a week ago.

As time dragged on and the signals kept on ringing, she started to feel like maybe this was a stupid idea. Lexa was probably sleeping, and God knows she needed the rest. Once again she had to painfully remind herself that even though it felt like they had known each other for years – this was all brand new. You couldn’t just call people up in the middle of the night that you had known for barely a blink of time. There was some kind of abstract limit to that kind of behavior. Six months, maybe a year? Just as she was about to hang up and send a message to apologize for drunk dialling (that was what she was going to blame this on, even if she was just slightly inebriated and nothing near drunk) there was a sound on the other end of the line.

“ _Clarke, are you okay?”_ came Lexa’s voice.

Stoic, slightly tense (probably worried) and like oxygen to Clarke’s suffocating lungs. She revelled in it for a fraction of a second before she realised that not only had she woken the woman up, she had also probably given her quite a scare. _You’re an idiot, Clarke._

“Oh, hey! Did I wake you?” she asked, like a full-blown idiot.  
 _“No, I just didn’t have my phone on me. Are you okay, Clarke?”_

 _Right._ Answer the question.

“Yeah, yeah definitely. I’m in a cab on my way home. I just… eh, I just got you text earlier.”

How had she suddenly forgot how to form coherent sentences? She was _positive_ that she had known how to speak just a few minutes ago.

 _“Oh, okay. Your phone is working then, glad we could settle that,”_ Lexa drawled on the other end.

Usually she found Lexa’s sarcasm quite charming, but right now it was making this ten times harder. What was she going to say? Why had she even called? She knew why; because she missed her like crazy, because she needed to hear her voice, because that text had made her feel something, because all she ever wanted to do was to talk to Lexa about everything and nothing at all. But she couldn’t just say that, could she?

_“Clarke? Are you there?”_

Shit.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Phone’s still working, haha!” she tried, instantly wincing at her joke.

Get it together, Griffin.

“Look Lexa, I don’t know why I called you. I guess I just missed you, per usual. But I don’t want to disturb you and it’s the middle of the night and I’m not making any sense, so I should probably let you get back to whatever you were doing. I’m sorry if I woke you up,” she rambled, feeling like she couldn’t handle a single second more of this excruciating experience.

The line fell quiet for a second before a soft chuckle was heard from the brunette.

_“You know that the incessant rambling is probably half the reason why I like you, Clarke. You could never disturb me, and I wasn’t sleeping. I’m in Seattle, time difference, remember? How was the party?”_

This was so typically Lexa. Just when you thought that you had screwed up she came in and made it all go away, all while making you fall even harder. Clarke wasn’t ever going to get out of this ‘relationship’ unscathed, that much she knew already. But she heeded the older woman’s advice nonetheless and answered her question. Lexa listened and asked about her friends and their friends and what she was wearing and all of the things that one is supposed to ask in a situation like this. Clarke felt her anxiety melt away from the warmth of Lexa’s laughter and before she knew it the cab had pulled up in front of her house. Stepping out on the cold pavement she watched it drive away in the night.

 _“I take it you got home safely then?”  
_ “Yeah, would you look at that! Even without the help of a fancy driver in a black sedan,” Clarke teased.  
 _“Complain all you want, the car is part of the deal,”_ Lexa deadpanned.  
“I specifically remember the idea being born _after_ you signed the security contract, so I wouldn’t think so,” Clarke shot back, she was (not so) secretly looking for ways to get out from the car agreement, and Lexa was very much aware of that.  
 _“Not that deal, honey. The car is part of the me-deal. The me-caring-about-you-deal.”_

 _Honey?_ Clarke just bit her lip and smiled at the ground. It was cold outside, and she should probably hang up and go inside and get some sleep, but she really didn’t want this to end.

“What’s the other part?” she asked quietly.  
 _“The other part of what?”  
_ “Earlier you said that my rambling was part of why you liked me. What’s the other part?”

The line went quiet for a while Lexa thought her answer through.

 _“Honestly, I don’t know. It’s everything about you. It just feels right, you know?”  
_ “Yeah, I know exactly,” Clarke said.

Even if Lexa was a whole America away from her, she felt like she could’ve reached out and touched her.

_“Also, have you seen yourself? How could I not want to tap that?”_

And as Clarke tried her best to keep her laugh down the moment was broken. But it was alright, because they would have more of those. And Lexa wouldn’t be Lexa if not for the disgraceful sense of humour that Clarke had discovered was there just a little more than a week ago.

“You’re an ass, Lexa Woods. An absolute ass,” she tried her best to sound serious, but her bubbling laughter betrayed her.  
 _“I’m warning you, appreciate my compliments or I might just stop altogether,”_ Lexa feigned offence.  
“Okay, I’ll behave, I promise. Look, I really have to get inside now or I’ll freeze to death out here. But come home soon, okay? I miss you crazy much,” she borderline begged into her phone.

Lexa promised that she would, even though she didn’t specify when and Clarke didn’t ask, and then they hung up. Clarke made it into the house, climbed the stairs to her bedroom and quickly made herself ready for bed. Creeping in under the covers she fished up her phone one last time before going to sleep.

 _Clarke Griffin, 01:37  
_ _You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, too._

xxx

Lexa felt about half as confident as she looked when she walked the short distance from the barely decent coffee shop to the entrance of the big, brick building in front of her. This plan was poorly thought trough and probably bound to be a failure, but it was worth it for the small chance that she would get to see the look on Clarke’s face. She had gotten back to DC late last night without telling anyone, and now she was on her way to Georgetown with two cups of coffee like someone from a romcom. She knew that the blonde was working the ER again, and that she would go on a break in 5 minutes. So far, so good. She also figured that she could ask someone inside to ask her to come to the lobby for her, but that was about it.

For all she knew Clarke could have been called into surgery, or simply caught up somewhere. Maybe she would even forego her break altogether? Lexa knew that she did that sometimes, when the floor was too busy. Her heels clicked against the snowy tarmac in a soothing rhythm and her thick, dark grey winter coat helped her keep up an anonymous appearance. Not that this was her venue, she doubted she would be recognized in a hospital, but you never knew these days.

The automatic doors slid open for her with a slight squeak and the familiar lobby welcomed her with a smell of detergent and the sound of people coughing. _If she got sick because of this, she was one hundred percent blaming Clarke._ Taking a quick look around she followed the directions to the ER and approached the woman sitting behind the desk at a nurse’s station, skimming through some paperwork. As Lexa approached, she looked up with a slightly judging squint.

“Are you someone’s close relative?” she asked per routine.  
“No, I’m…”  
“Are you someone’s wife?”  
“What? No, I’m…”  
“Then you can’t visit. Immediate family _only_.”

Lexa was _not_ used to being treated like this anymore. Not to not being allowed to form, even less finish, a sentence and _not_ to being turned down before she even got to ask a question. So it was fair to say that she was a bit disheveled, almost enough to render her speechless. But she was quick to regain her footing and prepared for round two. Squaring her shoulders and raising an eyebrow she got ready to bargain. But alas, once again the nurse was one step ahead.

“Don’t give me that eyebrow-look. I don’t care how important you are or how much those slacks cost you, you ain’t getting in without a doctor’s permission _which is only given to family._ ”

This time, Lexa almost got offended. The raised eyebrow quickly darted back down and turned into a frown. And this time, not even the mind-reading nurse from hell could outmaneuver her.

“Listen to me, goddammit. I promise you I won’t try and get into your ER. I was just going to ask you if you could tell me where I could find Clarke Griffin?” she said resolutely.  
“And if she happens to be _inside_ the ER, could you go get her for me, _please_?” she added as the nurse opened her mouth to speak.  
“You a friend of Clarke’s?” she said, slightly less hostile this time.  
“Yes, yes I am. And I can almost guarantee you that she will be happy to see me.”

Now the nurse’s behavior went through a drastic change. The guard-keeping watchdog turned into a sweet old woman, and putting down her stack of papers she smiled at Lexa while getting up.

“Well in _that_ case! I’ll go and get her for you, she’ll be here in a minute. Real sweet thing, Dr. Griffin,” and then she shuffled through a pair of swing doors and disappeared into a hallway.

Lexa was left standing on her own and a bit confused. But it didn’t come as a surprise that being Clarke’s ‘friend’ came with benefits, she couldn’t imagine that there was a soul out there that did not adore Clarke Griffin. Hell, she had even melted through Lexa’s rather thick defenses in half a night.

As she waited, she couldn’t help but feel a bit exposed. She knew that Clarke would be happy to see her, Lexa herself was dying to see those blue eyes after almost two weeks apart, but there was also the possibility that she would be mad at her for not telling her. And if she was being honest, she had been a bit difficult when it came to keep in touch. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, she really did, but her yearly trip was an emotional one and she still had her limits to how much of that she could handle in one sitting.

Just as she was wondering if the nurse had gotten herself lost in the deep hallways of the emergency room, the swing doors opened back up and next to the old nurse walked the world’s most beautiful creature. It never ceased to amaze Lexa how someone could be _so_ _perfect._ Even in those (less than flattering) scrubs Clarke looked like something from a dream. Her blue eyes sparkled like a summer sky and her raspy laugh filled up the room as she threw her head back to something the nurse had said. It was impossible to not feel like a million bucks when she was nearby. Lexa was a lucky girl.

It took a few seconds before Clarke saw her. She stood a few feet away from the nurse’s station, leaning against the wall with the coffees in one hand and fidgeting with her blouse with the other. It was only when the nurse looked at Lexa with a smile and a gesture that the blonde turned to see who she was communicating with. Much like the Christmas dinner at her parents, she swept with her gaze past Lexa once before quickly doubling back and fixating.

Lexa quickly concluded that, just as she had hoped, this endeavor was entirely worth it for Clarke’s facial expressions alone. First, her jaw dropped to the floor before opening and closing like a fish a few times. Then both her hands shot up to cover her mouth as she made some kind of swallowed shriek before looking like she was about to get sick. When she finally managed to move it was tentative steps at first that quickly turned into a light jog. She covered the short distance in a few steps before realizing where they were and stopping abruptly a few feet away.

There she stood, for a good ten seconds, before finally removing her hands from her mouth.

“Hello, Clarke,” Lexa smiled at her.

Clarke still seemed unable to form words, but after a few seconds she shook her head and gathered herself with a slightly confused smile.

“You’re back?”

 _Still about as eloquent as a seven-year-old,_ Lexa thought with a smile.  
  
“Sure looks like it, right? And I brought coffee as a peace offering,” she said, lifting the cup up closer to her face.  
“But when?” Clarke asked, ignoring the coffee and still clearly confused.  
“Late last night, I was going to tell you but then I figured that this could be fun,” she shrugged and gestured toward her surroundings.

Clarke somehow managed to shake her head and nod at the same time, before smiling. Taking off in a different direction than she came from she motioned for Lexa to follow. She managed to mouth a 'thank you' to the nurse over her shoulder before they took off, walking in silence past what seemed like an infinite number of doors before finally stopping. Clarke fidgeted with the handle for a moment before opening a door that led into what Lexa assumed to be one of the on call-rooms. The blonde gestured for her to get in and she obliged without questions. Looking for somewhere to put the coffees, she heard the door close and lock behind her. _Pervert,_ she thought with a smirk, but she was not about to complain.

Putting the cups down on a bedside table, she turned around to face the other woman. Clarke simply looked at her with a million thoughts visible in her eyes. Lexa was pretty sure that she was just going to jump her right then and there (and she didn’t mind), but instead she just opened her arms. Lexa felt her heart soften as she walked right into the waiting girl’s embrace. As she felt Clarke snuggling her face into her neck, she was almost surprised at how homey this felt. As if her place in this world was in between these arms. Well, that and her office of course.

She slowly pulled back, just an inch, and reached up to lift Clarke’s chin. Blue eyes found green and then Lexa didn’t want to wait any longer. She leant in and captured those soft lips with her own and allowed her insides to swim. The kiss deepened, and just as she was going to back Clarke up against the door for some extra leverage, the blonde pulled away.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered against her lips.  
“I’ve missed you too, Clarke.”

Clarke just smiled and shook her head.

“Maybe, but you don’t understand. I’ve like, _really_ missed you. Like the kind of missing that hurts. I’m so happy that your back, and that you came. Thank you.”

Lexa wanted to argue, that she did indeed understand and that she knew exactly what that felt like, but for once she backed down and just allowed Clarke to kiss her softly once more.

“Anytime. Now, I’m pretty sure that you need that coffee, so how about we drink it before it’s gone completely cold?” she mused into the blonde’s ear.

Clarke just nodded before reluctantly letting go of Lexa’s waist and walking over to the bed. Grabbing a cup, she sat down on the mattress and took a deep swig.

“Jesus, this was good,” she sighed.  
“Glad to hear that, the place looked really mediocre,” Lexa frowned as she suspiciously inspected the content of her cup.  
“That’s just because you’re a coffee-snob. I would drink it even if it was burnt and two days old just for the caffeine.”  
“ _Gross_ , please tell me that’s never happened. I can’t be with someone who takes her coffee so lightly,” Lexa complained.

Clarke just peered over at her and shrugged, something that Lexa interpreted as that it probably had happened more than once.

“How’s the arm?” she just asked.

Clarke had forced Lexa to send pictures of her wound when she realized that she wouldn’t be back in DC in time for their two-week check-up. Lexa had seriously been trying not to strain it or make it worse and Clarke had given her a clear to take of the bandages just two days ago. It was still a sore and angry red mark and it was sure to leave a scar, but it had closed up nicely and without infections.

“It’s still fine, barely no pain or swelling. Only when I stretch the muscle a bit to ambitiously.”  
“Which I, of course, never do,” she added charmingly as the blonde glared at her.

Her hair was barely up in a messy bun, she had a suspicious stain on her shirt and she clearly had no coffee-decency left, but Lexa couldn’t help but smile at her.

“What are you smiling at?” Clarke frowned as she took another sip.  
“What, can’t I smile?” Lexa jested back.  
“Don’t pretend like you smiling isn’t at least a little bit weird,” Clarke drawled.  
“I almost always smile when I’m with you!” Lexa deflected with feigned offence.  
“Lexa, you’re deflecting again.”

This banter was part of their daily routine. They almost always playfully argued about something, but she didn’t mind. Usually she hated being questioned, or even worse: proven wrong, but with Clarke it was okay. She would even yield on occasion, just to get a series of unabashedly proud texts from a victorious Clarke.

“Fine. I’m smiling because your hair is a mess, and you have a stain on your shirt, and you look like you could use a shower and a good night’s sleep.”

Clarke rolled her eyes at her before settling with a frown.

“No shit, now _please_ tell me what’s so entertaining about that,” she demanded.  
“Nothing. I’m not smiling because it’s funny, I’m smiling because you’ve never been more beautiful. Every day I find something new about you, a new side, and every time I like you a bit more. And that makes me happy,” Lexa explained, trying to sound like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Truth be told, she always felt her inside knotted together every time she held a speech like that, but Clarke’s reaction was _always_ worth it. This time she simply put the cup down before patting down on her lap with her free hand.

“Come here. Come here now and kiss me.”

Lexa needn’t be told twice. She ignored the lap-thing, she still had her pride, but she quietly slipped onto the bed and draped her right arm around Clarke's waist. As soft lips pressed against her own she figured that if this was what happened every time she allowed herself to hand out compliments, maybe it was worth it.

Fifteen minutes later they were laying side by side on the narrow bed, Clarke’s head resting heavily on Lexa’s chest and her fingers playing lazily with a displaced brown curl.

“Isn’t your break over by now?” Lexa asked.  
“Nah, I get thirty minutes if I want to, I just rarely use them all. But today I’m making an exception,” Clarke mumbled, placing a soft kiss on Lexa’s neck.

Lexa just nodded and squeezed the blonde’s shoulder.

“Unless you need to get back to the office?” she added softly.  
“I do. But I guess you’re not the only one who’s willing to make an exception today.”  
“The great Lexa Woods, neglecting her duties to lay here on a stiff bed in a windowless room with me. I must really be something special, huh?” Clarke teased.  
“Stop fishing for compliments, Clarke,” Lexa shot back, while stabbing the other woman in the ribs with her fingers.

Clarke squealed and tried her best to wiggle free from Lexa’s deadlock, but she was doomed to fail. Lexa felt merciful today though, and let her go before Clarke was left totally breathless. She had to survive the rest of her shift, after all. Untangling her arms from the blonde’s body, she sat up and watched the heavily breathing Clarke, once again splayed out on the bed. Her shirt had slipped up and exposed a strip of marble skin. Tempting, so Lexa reached out and pulled it back down. Letting her hand rest on Clarke’s stomach, she felt every breath and heartbeat the blonde took.

“Remind me that I need to work out more if I’m ever going to survive you,” she exhaled loudly.

Lexa just laughed and reached up to cup her cheek.

“But what if I like you just the way you are?” she mused.  
“You’re only saying that so that you’ll keep the upper hand,” Clarke pouted.  
“Partly. But with all due respect, you would have to work out _a lot_ before that would ever become an issue,” she teased only to get her hand swatted away with a grunt.

The faked hostility didn’t last long though. Soon Clarke’s frown once again turned into a pout and she held out her arms, clearly wanting Lexa to lie back down.

“You, young lady, are getting clingier by the minute,” Lexa laughed.  
“Well, stop provoking me by being over there then!”  
“Out of the twenty minutes I’ve been here, we’ve been making out at least fifteen of them.”  
“ _So?_ ” Clarke whined.  
“ _So,_ I’ve hardly provoked you. Am I even allowed to be in here? Isn’t this a non-public part of the hospital? You’re an intern Clarke, I would hate for someone to find out and hold a grudge against you because of me.”

Clarke gave up and crossed her arms over her chest before sighing and sitting back up. Straightening out her scrubs and trying her best to smooth over her hair she turned to Lexa with a somber face.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve never been told and I’ve never asked, but I wasn’t exactly taking all aspects into consideration when you showed up here out of the blue after a two weeks absence. I mean, what would you have done?”

Okay, so maybe she was being a dick again. Was it really too much for the blonde to ask for, just for her to be there with her, in the moment, without giving her a lecture about protocol? Definitely not. And even if she only said this because she cared about Clarke and her career, she was a grown woman (albeit the age difference) and was more than capable of risk analyzing her own decisions. Unfortunately, that part of Lexa’s train of thoughts had taken too long to arrive, and Clarke’s eyes narrowed for a moment before shaking her head.

“You know what, don’t answer that. I think we both know what you would have done. I’m sorry, okay?” Clarke sighed, once again dragging her hand through her hair.

She said it without malice, it wasn’t meant to hurt per se, but it sure did. Lexa felt a bitter aftertaste from Clarke’s words, it stung. And even if they honestly didn’t know each other that well, they both knew that Clarke was right. If the roles had been reversed, Lexa would have been happy, thrilled even, to see Clarke standing in the lobby. She would have walked up, smiling, and given her a hug. Asked her about the trip and about all other things that are polite to ask about. She would have joked and charmed and maybe even reached out to squeeze her arm.

But she wouldn’t have dragged her into her office, pulled down the blinds and pushed her up against the door. She wouldn’t have kissed her, she would have booked an appointment at the coffee shop later that day (or whenever convenient). She would never had risked exposure or questions from nosy colleagues, or done anything that could have affected her impeccable reputation. Because where Clarke was sweet and caring and full off love, Lexa was analytical, scared and risk-avert. It had served her well over the years, she wouldn’t have been where she was today without that mindset, but right now it made everything _so much harder._

And this was exactly what made this relationship borderline impossible. It would be sweet and intriguing and exciting for days on end, and Clarke was this great wonder that she wanted nothing more than to get to know. But then she would, inevitably, screw up. And Clarke would be there, like she was right now, sitting next to her with a defeated look in her eyes. And she wouldn’t storm out, she wouldn’t ghost her messages for days, she wasn’t about to tell Lexa that she had had enough of her. No, right now Clarke was sitting there blaming herself. And that was the absolute worst part.

Lexa wanted to do something, but in all honesty, what could she do? Apologize? Of course, but then she would make the exact same mistake the next week, and the week after that. Break things off to spare the you woman’s heart? Maybe, in an alternate reality where she had ten times more emotional strength. Instead she just reached out tentatively to touch that beautiful face and did the only thing she could: she told the truth.

“Don’t you _ever_ apologize for being you, Clarke. You deserve so much better than this. _I’m_ sorry for being an asshole.”

She almost desperately leaned in to kiss the marble cheek, two times for extra measure and good luck, before leaning back and letting her hand fall back down onto her lap. She should probably go, before she made things worse, but she kind of wanted Clarke to throw her out so that the girl didn’t get the impression that she was running. So she just waited.

Finally, Clarke just leaned back into her chest and nuzzled her head back into her neck.

“I don’t care what I deserve and you don’t know half of the bad things I’ve done in my life, so it’s not you place to make that call. But I know what I want. So, I guess you’re just going to have to stop being and asshole and spend as much time thinking about what you say on thinking about what you do.”

Lexa couldn’t do anything but chuckle softly and bend down to kiss the crown of the blonde head.

“And, for the record, if you don’t, I’m probably going to stick around anyways. But that will be so much harder for both of us,” she added before jumping on her feet.

Lexa sat back for a few more seconds, watching the blonde throw the empty cups in a bin before straightening out her scrubs one final time. Then she decided to slip up behind her and wrapped her arms around the blonde one last time that day.

“You’re really great,” she whispered into Clarke’s ear before angling over to place one more kiss on those soft lips.

Clarke kissed her back for a few blissful seconds before they separated. They exited the room together (because let’s face it, splitting up would have been even more suspicious) and walked all the way to the main entrance together. There they hugged each other goodbye and Lexa stepped out into the winter air again, freezing for more reasons than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per usual, thanks for the lovely comments. You're unbelievable, super cool, outrageous and amazing.
> 
> Take care, be safe, be nice and wash your hands! xx


	10. What about the martini-line?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let there be feelings! *snaps fingers*  
> (Jokes aside, this is a bit sappy but I refuse to apologize so bear with me)

Clarke was laying stomach down, on Raven’s bed. She couldn’t have been bothered to move, not even if the world depended on it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat again. Like, ever,” she groaned into the covers.  
“I didn’t hear a word of what you just said. But based on your tone, I agree,” the usually so feisty brunette croaked from next to her on the bed.

Raven was lying top up, and Clarke realized that if they were going to keep up a conversation she would have to roll over before she turned completely comatose. Gathering all her strength, she managed to turn onto her back with a grunt of quite the magnitude before once again becoming completely immobile.

They had met up at Raven’s after work, and with them both being hungry and too lazy to cook, they had ordered in two large pizzas from the (in Clarke’s opinion) best pizza place in town. _MG's_ was the lovechild of cravings and absolute perfection, and they never _ever_ disappointed. She had been a customer for long enough to be recognized by the owner, Monty Green, and even if she wasn’t exactly a regular, he knew her order by heart. Boston-style with buffalo mozzarella, cherry tomatoes, spicy salami, olives and green pesto. They had devoured their respective meals in record time and had topped that down with a beer each.

The sheer fat- and calorie intake was what inevitably had ended them up like this. For a doctor who was currently seeing Lexa Woods, AKA the very epitome of health and fitness, this wasn’t something to be proud of. But Clarke couldn’t be bothered to care, the pizza was simply so good that it would probably be unhealthy for her mind to abstain, and what was that about ‘more to love’ again?

“I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to move,” Raven groaned from beside her.  
“Me neither. We might just have stranded ourselves indefinitely,” Clarke said, quietly resigning to a life spent lying on Raven Reyes’ bed.  
“I’m pretty sure I could design wheels and a motor to fit this bed in less than thirty minutes, that way we wouldn’t ever have to leave,” Raven said cheerfully.  
“But wouldn’t that require for you to move?” Clarke asked.  
“Oh right, scratch that…” Raven silently cursed under her breath.

Clarke closed her eyes and thought that she might as well take short nap while she was momentarily immobilized. She did indeed doze off, but only for a few minutes before she was brought back by Ravens hand banging on the bed to wake her up.

“Hey, earth to Griff! Could you please either get that call or tell whoever’s calling to fuck off? Preferably both.”

Clarke rubbed her eyes, bummed out because the phone was on the nightstand on the other side of the bed, but the signal was indeed annoying. So she pulled herself together and pushed herself up on her elbows, reaching over to pick up her phone. Sloppily gazing over the screen, her frown turned into a slightly panicked expression when she saw the four-letter name on the display.  
  
“Clarke! Stop staring at the phone and answer, or I will!”

Raven’s cursing stopped her freeze and she fumbled to swipe right and get the phone to her ear.

“Hey!!!!” she squealed, far to enthusiastic.

Daring a look over her shoulder, Raven was looking at her with a suspicious frown. Obviously wondering how it was even possible to feel so much excitement over a phone call, especially in their shared current state.

 _“Hey Clarke, am I bothering you?”  
_“No, not at all! I was just… eh, I was just resting.”  
_“Oh, okay. Tough day at work?”  
_“No, work was fine! Actually, I just shoved an entire pizza so I was trying to sleep of the food coma,” Clarke admitted as her face tinged slightly red.

If Lexa had anything to comment on that, she didn’t make it known. Instead she just made vaguely positive hum before clearing her throat.

It wasn’t like Lexa to call. It had only happened once before, that ghastly time she went to Florida. Clarke, however, called her occasionally but even then it wasn’t like her to be this hesitant. She would always be cordial, overly polite and so well prepared to each and every question. A Lexa that cleared her throat before speaking didn’t qualify as a regular occurrence. Clarke was just about to walk out of Raven-earshot to ask what was wrong when the brunette spoke up.

 _“So, I was just actually just calling to ask you…”  
_“Wait. Could you just hold that question for a moment?” she cut Lexa off, feeling the need to get out of Raven’s bedroom.  
“ _Uhm, okay?_ ”

Clarke slid off the bed as gracefully as she could, stubbed her toe on the bedpost in the process and bit back a groan as she maneuvered through Raven’s penthouse to the kitchen where she popped herself up on the counter.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I'm back. What was it that you wanted to ask me?”  
_“Right. Nothing interesting really... or, I mean, actually, I just wanted to ask you what you were doing Friday?”_

Clarke’s heart did a double somersault and then died in her chest. Was this Lexa asking her out? She had secretly waited for this moment ever since she asked Lexa out for coffee in the ER all those weeks ago. She would have done it herself in the end (patience wasn't her strong suit after all) but she really wanted Lexa to ask her ‘back’, no matter how childish that was. But getting her hopes up was dangerous, she reminded herself. She tried her best to reel in her voice when she answered.

“I’m working until 7PM, but then I’m free until Saturday afternoon. Why are you asking?” she tried to ask casually.  
_“Because I would really, really like for you to go out to dinner with me. I need to do something to make up for all the asshole-esque behaviour, and this might at least be a start. Would you be interested?”_

No one but Lexa could make a date proposal sound like a business transaction. But Clarke didn’t mind, not at all. She had made her mind up long before the question was even asked.

“And here I was thinking that you would never ask. Text me the details and I’ll be there,” she mused.  
“ _I’ve been wanting to ask you out since that time you stalked me at Arkadia. Of course I was going to ask.”_

“Well what stopped you?” Clarke teased.  
_“You beat me to it. And then came Christmas and New Year’s. But I’m asking now, and I'll try my best to make it up to you.”_

Clarke felt a shiver down her spine at that. Today was Wednesday. Friday was two whole days away, was she supposed to wait for two whole days?

“Now that you’ve got my hopes up, I’m going to hold you to that.”  
“ _I wouldn’t expect anything less. See you Friday,”_ the brunette offered back, tone as formal as ever but with a hint of _something_ hidden in her voice.  
“Bye Lex, I’m counting down already,” she said back before hanging up the call.

Leaning back on her hands she rolled her neck before jumping back down on the kitchen floor (careful to not put any weight on her throbbing toe), only to be greeted by the sight of Raven leaning against the kitchen doorframe. _Fuck._ How long had she been standing there? And what was her problem with personal space? Fine, _they were in her apartment_ , but still.

“Am I going crazy or did you just have a super-cute conversation with someone called ‘Lex’ in my kitchen?” she drawled, eyebrow raised expectantly.

Clarke only gave her a disapproving stare, not prepared to neither deny or confirm those claims.

“Fine, no games then. We both know that I did. Just tell me, is ‘Lex’ short for Lexa Woods?”

Clarke tried her best to stay levelled with Raven’s deep, brown eyes but she had always been a crappy liar. Realizing her failure, she just threw up her hands in a defeated gesture. Deciding that it was all the confirmation she needed, Raven’s jaw dropped before she practically shrieked with excitement. Clarke just sighed, this being the exact reason she had decided that it had been best to keep things under wraps.

She didn’t need her two best friends making a big deal out of something that was scary and fragile enough as it was. Because, no matter how many times she told Lexa she would stick around, that was a two way decision. And both her and Lexa knew that the brunette was everything _but_ comfortable with the particular nature of this relationship, even if she tried her best to keep her feelings in cheque.  
  
Clarke didn’t exactly blame her. After all, her reputation and career was kind of at stake here, and her personality didn’t exactly scream ‘hopeless romantic’. But none of that would be made better by people (Raven and Octavia) potentially failing to shut their mouths and turning this into the hottest cup of tea in the neighborhood. That being said, she loved her friends and hated keeping things from them. Therefore, a not so small part of her was almost happy for Raven’s incessant eavesdropping, this way she would have someone to vent to when things got a bit rough.

“OH MY GOD you’re fucking Lexa Woods?!” Raven all but screamed, eyes gleaming with joy.  
“ _Language_ , Raven! Besides, it only happened once and that was before Christmas,” she added with a smirk.  
“Jesus, Clarke! I’ve _always_ said that you’re too hot to be straight,” Raven teased as she walked over to her best friend and engulfed her in a hug.  
“Why didn’t you tell us?” she asked, not hostile but genuinely worried.  
“Because I didn’t know what to tell you. And because there’s a lot on the line here, Lexa wouldn’t exactly benefit from being seen with her top client’s daughter. Marcus would probably suffer even worse. And I _really_ like her, I really want for this to work even if it means that I have to keep things off the radar. You can’t tell anyone, Raven. Not even Octavia, okay?” she practically begged.

Raven pulled back a few inches and looked into her friends eyes, tilting her head to the side.

“I get it. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I love you, Griff, and I want what’s best for you. If that’s Lexa Woods, then so be it. But please make this work, I would have to hate to have to kill her if she fucks you over.”  
  
Clarke just laughed and pulled her in for another hug. She was truly blessed with the best friends one could ever ask for, they always had her back covered no matter what.

“I’ll try my best. I’ve got a really good feeling about this, Rae. It’s nothing like it was with him. She can be a jerk sometimes, but it’s never because she wants to hurt me, mostly the absolute opposite actually. She’s really trying, and so am I. Besides, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't stand a chance.”  
“Oh _please_ , I'd blow her to bits before she even saw it coming. But in either case there’s only one thing left to do,” Raven replied, stepping back and looking Clarke square in the eye while holding out her hand.

“You have to tell me _everything._ ”

xxx

Lexa had been tapping her pen against her desk for the past thirty minutes. On the outside the dark-skinned woman was as calm as ever, but Indra was probably half an inch from slitting her throat with the stack of papers in her hand. They had been going over the company’s finances for hours. Usually she would be paying full attention and revel in the feeling of success as she watched the up-going trends that never seemed to break. But it was Friday, and in less than an hour she would be busting her ass and placing all her cards on the table in a desperate attempt to deserve the affections of Clarke Griffin.

She hadn’t planned or executed a date like this in years. And that had been for someone she knew, someone she loved. Someone she thought would always, unconditionally, be there to love her back. She hadn’t been afraid to fail back then. Much like with these numbers, she had felt secure. Like a champion. Like, if she just played her cards right and stuck to the plan, everything would turn out just fine. This time she didn’t. Clarke was untamed, she was wild and sparkling. What if she had played too safe? Or what if she had overdone it? It had to be perfect. _She_ had to be perfect.

“Lexa, are you even paying attention?” Indra asked her with a frown.  
“I am. I really am, I’m just… nervous. I have this thing tonight and it’s much more intimidating than those throughout positive numbers,” she admitted to her colleague and mentor.

She had been paying attention, that wasn’t a lie. She would never sit in her own office and not be dedicated to her job, but this time she had two things on her mind instead of one.

“Then maybe we should wrap this up? As you said yourself, business is booming.”

Lexa didn’t need much persuading. She almost instantly got up and thanked Indra for the help at the same time as she packed down the essentials and some additional paperwork into her bag. Indra looked at her with a raised eyebrow before nodding and heading for the door. Just as she was about to leave, she turned in the doorframe.

“Whatever and whomever it is that you're stressing about, they're pretty damn lucky,” she said with what could almost be interpreted as a smile.  
  
Lexa could nothing but nod in return, and before she knew it Indra was gone.

Lexa herself walked calmly out of her office and into the garage on the other side of the street before getting in her car. She drove all the way home, listening to Miike Snow and gently tapping out her stress with her fingers against the steering wheel. Back in her apartment she worked methodically, as she always did when she tried not to freak out about over something. She showered, washed her hair, dried off, blew out her hair, put on lotion, applied a small arsenal of products in her curls, dressed in the perfect outfit that had been meticulously planned half a dozen times - all the way from underwear to earrings, did her hair, put on make up and topped it all off with a pair of ridiculously expensive heels.

When she was finished, she had followed her schedule down to the seconds. It was now 8PM, and she was due to meet Clarke at Polis in 30min. Taking one last look at herself in the mirror she decided that black truly was her colour before stepping out and calling down to the driver waiting for her.

Polis was a nice place. Actually, nice was an understatement. It was _the_ place, in Lexa’s opinion. It lay nicely right by the river, and boasted a two story restaurant, a rooftop bar, a Michelin-rewarded menu, exorbitant prices and impeccable service – Lexa also happened to know the owner and had managed to secure not only a private dining room but also a secret entrance through the back door. Just before she arrived (ten minutes early, of course) she got a text from Clarke.

 _Clarke Griffin, 19:16  
_ _Okay so I’m in the car and I still don’t know where I’m going. I don’t understand why you just couldn’t have texted me the address instead of sending Steve_

_I don’t even know if I’m dressed properly_

_Lexa Woods, 19:17  
Relax, Clarke. It’s not a long drive, you’ll be here soon. And I’m sure that you look amazing._

Lexa got dropped off at the back, far from the prying eyes of the public. The problem with places like these was that there were hardly no ordinary people eating here. It was only people from the upper class, the same upper class that hired her. That meant that most people in there knew someone who had been or was working with her, and she didn’t like exposing her private life to them.

Walking through the back door (that looked almost as fancy as the main entrance) she was greeted by a waiter who escorted her up the stairs to a room on the second floor. It was bigger than she remembered, but not too big for the occasion. In the middle stood a table, large enough for about five or six people, but set just for two with tasteful decorations taking up the rest of the space.

Being a corner room, two off the walls were panorama with a view of the Potomac. The two remaining walls were made of stone and boasted a large black and white painting each. Lexa recognized the style, but she was trash at art and had no idea who had painted them. The lamp that hung from the ceiling gave the room a soft, warm glow.

 _So far, so good,_ she thought to herself.

“Can I get you anything to drink, ma’am?” the waiter, a tall dark haired young man in a black waistcoat, asked her.  
“Yeah, sure. A glass of wine, red, please. Whatever’s the strongest,” she asked, not even embarrassed by her request.

Clarke was going to be here any minute now and that was freaking her out. The waiter just nodded and backed out of the room, leaving Lexa alone to ponder. The venue was already perfect, so the rest would be up to her. How was she going to approach this? The military had taught her that as long as you’re methodical and stick to the plan, things will work out fine. _Start off nicely, easy questions and dedicated follow-ups. She’s a talker, she won’t make this too hard,_ she thought to herself.

The waiter was quick to return with a glass that Lexa eagerly took into her hand, and as soon as he had walked out she took a big gulp. She only managed to just swallow it when the door opened again to reveal another waiter standing in front of a slightly terrified-looking Clarke Griffin.

Stepping aside and holding up the door, the waiter politely motioned for Clarke to enter the room before closing the door behind him as he left them alone. Clarke looked around the room for a moment with an unreadable expression. Instead of getting even more stressed by this, Lexa took her time to study the girl.

First of all – Clarke’s fretting about her outfit was entirely in vain. She was just as dressed for the venue as Lexa was in a dark blue wrap dress that clung to her in every way possible ( _and impossible_ ). Her heels were high and her make-up dark and accentuating, the complete opposite of Clarke’s light personality. Lexa was impressed over the blonde being able to pull all of this off in a hospital locker room, but she didn’t have time to think it over because now Clarke had stopped looking at the room and was looking at her instead.

Slowly sauntering over the floor toward her, Clarke face remained stoic but her eyes revealed a small smile. She stopped when they were a few inches apart, and Lexa was pretty sure that she could have cut through the quietness and electricity of the room with a knife.

“Hello, Clarke. I’m glad that you could make it,” she offered, proud of how her voice didn’t waver.  
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, _Lexa_. And so far I’m not regretting it, you’ve pulled out all the stops tonight. Polis isn’t just any restaurant, if rumour serves it right,” Clarke replied with a small smile.  
“I told you before, you deserve the very best,” she said, not wanting to push anything but still leaning impossibly closer.

The blonde was indeed the sun, and she was the earth, hopelessly being pulled in by gravity and desperately trying her best to bask in the warmth.

“And I told you that you don’t get to decide what I deserve. But I think that just this once I’m going to let you spoil me,” Clarke whispered as she leant forward and connected their lips in a soft but longing kiss.

“We really have to do that more often than once every week,” Clarke mused as she pulled back with a smile.  
“Hm, I’ll rise to two. Three if you’re really nice,” Lexa teased before walking over to one of the two chairs and pulling it out.  
“Oh, _how chivalrous._ And you have no idea just how _nice_ I can be, I’ll have you caving in no time.”

Clarke was sporting that kind of devilish grin that only meant trouble as she sat down. The old Lexa wanted to scold her (she also wanted to take her home and make her scream, but that was a different story), but she had promised to try stop being an asshole and she wanted to hold true to that. Instead she just walked over to her side of table and sat herself down.

“So, who did the heroic doctor save today?” she asked with a smirk, quietly telling Clarke that there would be time for all kinds of unorthodox behavior _after_ dinner.  
“ _Who_ is confidential, as I’m sure that you know. But as for _what,_ I salvaged a few broken bones and got to scrub in during a kidney transplant. They didn’t let me do much, but I was the first intern to be called into the ER for that kind of procedure so that’s a good thing I guess,” Clarke explained enthusiastically.

Lexa smiled at the way she was able to go from sexy to excited in less than a second, but wasted no time mulling over that as she wanted to catch on to the opportunity to ask more questions.

“I’m not surprised. Are you still leaning towards pediatrics or are you interested in general surgery as well?”  
“Actually, general surgery was my goal all throughout med school, it was only when I rotated to peds here at the hospital that I opened up to other possibilities. My mum is a general surgeon, but she is super supportive either way. I haven’t made up my mind yet, I guess I’ll just go with the flow for as long as I can before I have to pick one,” Clarke shrugged.

The other waiter came in to give them menus and asked Clarke what she wanted to drink. She ordered a cocktail (because of course she was a cocktail-girl) and conversation was halted for a moment as the scanned the menus. Lexa settled for deer and Clarke ordered salmon. The waiter came back for their orders and delivered Clarke’s martini. She took a sip from it and closed her eyes as she swallowed.

“Jesus Christ, Lexa. This is really good,” she hummed.  
“It’s only a martini, Clarke. I don’t really think that there’s much room for mistakes,” Lexa chuckled.  
“Oh, _believe_ me, college was full of crappy martinis,” Clarke drawled.  
“Okay, so I don’t claim to be a college-expert and we didn’t drink much in the military, but martinis doesn’t exactly scream college to me,” she said with a questioning smirk.

Clarke merely smiled back and wiggled her eyebrows.

“It doesn’t. But you also haven’t met Party-Griffin. She really, really likes martinis and was very subjectable to bribes.”  
“Ah, let me guess: at any party there would be a drunk Clarke in the middle of the room, surrounded by dedicated followers and with a long line of boys offering martinis at her tail?”  
“Something like that,” Clarke admitted quietly, almost blushing.  
“Don’t worry, I recognize a girl like you when I see one, I basically surround myself with them. That’s why I was a tad skeptical towards you in the beginning. I thought that you would be more…”  
“Superficial?” Clarke finished for her.

Clarke searched for confirmation in Lexa’s eyes, probably worried that she would have to fight off the same stereotypes she had been fighting her entire life.

“And I couldn’t have been more wrong,” Lexa said, reaching out for Clarke’s hand over the table.  
“And don’t be embarrassed over Party-Griffin. I’m sure that I would have found her entertaining, watching her from the sidelines.”

“Ah, so you wouldn’t be in the martini-line then?” Clarke teased.

There was a hint of a sincere question in her voice. She probably wanted to know if she had always dated girls, which was a natural thing to ask about even if it somewhat lacked relevance. But seeing it from Clarke’s point of view, Lexa probably was this indoctrinate lesbian who knew everything about anything. She was wrong, of course.

“ _If_ you and I would have gone to college at the same time I would probably have been there on some soccer-scholarship and still have dated Kyle from high school just out of convenience. Not at the same parties as the popular girls, and definitely not in the martini-line because soccer girls take it easy on the alcohol. I might have thought about it, though, along with the rest of the school,” Lexa said, smirking at the last line while squeezing Clarke’s hand.  
“Kyle, huh? You would have been there, though. I would have invited you,” Clarke corrected her easily.  
“As sweet as that is of you to say, I’m pretty sure that you wouldn’t even have known who I was,” Lexa laughed.

Back in high school, she had been the ‘hot girl on the soccer team’, the girl that no one caused trouble for but still the one who’s name no one knew. Her clique had been the other soccer girls, Ontari and Dakiva, and Roan. A big dude on the football-team whom she had used to share a foster home with. Kyle had been Roan’s friend, he had tried to hit her up for almost a year before she finally caved and started dating him because that was the easiest thing to do. It also helped her convince herself that there was nothing ‘wrong’ with her sexuality, that she was just as straight as the other girls.

Clarke on the other hand had probably been a cheerleader.

“If you were on the soccer team, that means I would have seen you once or twice during cheer practice and at your games…”

_Bingo._

“… and given the fact that I saw your face in the crowd at The Ark as soon as I walked through the doors, I’m pretty sure that I would have known exactly who you were. And I would have invited you, because that’s what girls like me do when they find someone that they want to get to know.”

Lexa wanted to believe her, she really did. She wanted to believe that Clarke would have noticed here even without her fancy clothes and title. She wanted to believe that teenage, popular, cheerleader Clarke would have tapped her on the shoulder during lunch break and ask her to a party with a hair toss and a smile. She had never had much to spare for cheerleaders, but she reckoned that if anyone was to prove her wrong it was Clarke. So she just smiled and nodded, content with not arguing (about this at least).

“Do you miss it?” she just asked instead.  
“Miss what?”  
“High school, college, being the it-girl, being on top of the world?”

Clarke seemed to think it over for a while, and when she finally answered she kept her gaze down on the table decorations.

“High school, occasionally. Not because of the attention but because of the people and the carelessness. Harvard, no. I thought I was having the happiest time of my life there until I wasn’t, and instead I was living a nightmare. And I have my looks and my status to thank for both, so I guess it’s true what they say about it being both a blessing and a curse.”

This Clarke was a new Clarke. She had seen glimpses of her before, but never this exposed. This was the sad Clarke, the suffering Clarke, the Clarke that had been through some real shit. And this Clarke was the reason why Lexa felt such a desperate need to _keep her safe._ She never wanted her to feel like that ever again, whatever that was, or to have this look on her face. Because Clarke _deserved better._ She reached over with her other hand and grabbed Clarke’s palm with both her own. Squeezing tight she waited until she got eye contact with blue eyes who tried their best to smile, despite everything they had been through.

“Hey there, gorgeous. That might be true but you’re building a base right now. One that’s independent of both those things. You’re an aspiring surgeon, a _great_ aspiring surgeon, and you’re going to accomplish great things. That’s not because of your appearance or because your parent’s money, that’s because you deserve it. And you also happen to have an ex-marine by at your back who will hurt whomever tries to hurt you, with both vigour and enthusiasm.”

Clarke just squeezed her hands back and smiled with her blue eyes sparkling.

“With risk of sounding really cheesy: where have you been all my life?” the blonde asked with her trademark raspy laugh.  
“Pretty much all over the world except for Boston and Spring Valley. But I’m here now, am I not?” Lexa said with one of those rare, teeth-showing grins that she saved for very special occasions such as managing to turn Clarke’s mood from sad to happy in a mere moment.

“Here you are. And I kind of just want to kiss that smug grin of your face right now, but there’s too much table between us,” Clarke pouted, eyes still sparkling.  
“All in due time, dear. Now, tell me all the good stuff about Harvard instead. I want to know all about the best coffee shops, the rivalry, the secret societies – everything.”

Clarke just laughed and went on to answer every question Lexa had for her. It felt nice, to be that carefree with someone, and secretly Lexa also really enjoyed learning all those things about a life that she had dreamed about but never been able to get. She hadn’t been lying when she said that she could’ve gotten a soccer scholarship, she had been the captain of her team and won their league three times in a row after all, but it had never been meant to be. But now she felt like she had the best of both worlds, a background in the military that she valued and a college experience through Clarke.

Soon dinner arrived, and as they tasted the food Lexa was pretty sure that Clarke was going to die of happiness. She was making all kinds of acceptable and unacceptable noises and her eyes practically rolled back into her head. She soon gathered her wits though, and before long they were eating and holding a normal conversation again.

Lexa learned the full extent of her relationship with Raven and Octavia, she learned about Clarke’s early years in Sacramento that Clarke barely remembered herself, she learned about how she loved art and how she had been an avid runner before she injured her knee in a cheerleading-accident.

“So, why did you leave Sacramento?” Lexa asked in between bites.  
“My dad got sick,” Clarke just stated matter-of-facedly.

Lexa managed to not choke on her food, she remembered Abby talking about this at the Christmas dinner and a short paragraph in the files, but she had all but forgotten about it. Not wanting to deep into a hard topic she carefully scanned Clarke’s face for any signs of distress. The blonde caught her watching and gave her a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m as over it as I’ll get. He was an engineer, a brilliant one, and a really amazing dad. He was always supportive and always happy, and most importantly, he always had time for me. But then he started getting headaches and bouts of nausea and his body started hurting all over. It turned out that he had cancer. He wasn’t going to get any better, we knew that, so he had to quit his job. He came from DC though, and his family lived here. Mum managed to find a good job that payed her better than the one in Sacramento anyways and so it was settled.

We moved into a house in the same neighborhood where I live now, but much smaller, and stayed there until he died. I was seven when it happened, and he had been sick for more than three years. It hurt, of course it did, but it was also liberating both for him and for us. He was in pain, he wanted it to end, and even though I desperately wanted my father he was only a shell of the man he once was. It was really rough for a while, but it gradually got better. My mum met Marcus when I was nine, and he did a really great job at stepping up without acting like he was replacing my biological dad. I still consider myself one of the lucky ones. I still have my mum left, I have an amazing step-father and a great life. And I know he’s proud.”

After that dinner continued without any more deep conversations. Lexa reveled in getting to spend this moment with Clarke, with all her small quirks and her rambling and her enthusiastic storytelling. As dinner progressed, so did the careful touching and the lingering looks. Clarke would be lazily playing with Lexa’s fingers as they waited for dessert, their legs would occasionally brush against each other and they would let it happen without any fuzz. Once or twice she felt Clarke’s eyes get stuck on her lips, and she caught herself dropping a bit low with her own eyes when the blonde shifted in her chair.

It felt natural, it felt right, and it felt like something she could do again and again and again. Take her out on fancy dates like this, but also cuddling up on her couch with whatever they had thrown together in her kitchen, eating and kissing and just _living._ After Clarke had finished the last piece of her ‘ _divine_ ’ lemon-chocolate tart and downed the last of her second martini Lexa called for the bill, blatantly ignoring Clarke who protested loudly when she heard the amount. It was pricey, yes, but Lexa could effortlessly afford it. Even though Clarke’s parents had more than twice as much money as her, she still completely out-levelled Clarke herself. She knew this because it was in the files, so the protests were irrelevant.

Instead she made sure to tip properly and pulled a pouting a Clarke from her chair. The waiters arrived with their coats and walked them down the stairs and out the back door where one of Lexa’s black cars were waiting. As the driver opened the door to the backseat for them, she motioned for Clarke to get in first. Sitting down and fastening her seatbelt, the driver took off toward the city. When he took a left Clarke turned in her seat with a frown.

“Lexa, where is he going?”

Lexa felt a small lump in her stomach untie itself. She hadn’t wanted to assume anything, so she had simply told the driver beforehand to drive them home to Clarke’s first. She figured that if the night went completely south, she wouldn’t have had to deal with the embarrassment of failure in the heat of the moment. Since everything had gone according to plan, she was pretty sure that Clarke was assuming that they were going back to her place, but she had wanted to be sure.

“Well, he’s driving you home,” she stated simply, because you didn’t just stop being an asshole overnight.  
“Oh, okay,” came Clarke’s carefully masked but disappointed reply after a few seconds.  
“I didn’t want to assume anything in case this all went the wrong way. But I suppose it isn’t too late to change his directions, if you’re up for it,” she said, turning to smirk against Clarke whose face morphed from emotionless to an eyeroll.

“You are an ass, an absolute ass, Lex. I hate you.”  
  
Lexa just reached out and interlocked her fingers with the blonde who, her harsh words aside, accepted instantly. Locking eyes with the driver through the rear-view mirror, he simply smiled and nodded before taking the next right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really can't thank you enough for the comments. You're a sweet and decent bunch, the entire lot.
> 
> I somehow feel weird about this one but I'll post it anyways because I don't have time for feelings right now. Stay safe and sane! xxx


	11. I'll take every second I can get

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hold up - it's only been a few days? It's not time for another update yet!" you say. And you're right, it's not. But I'm bored. Completely running on the walls absolutely bonkers-bored. Apparently, schedules and consistency doesn't matter when you're bored and that's not my fault.
> 
> Also, disclaimer: this is fluffy and disgusting. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Clarke had tried her best to keep her composure, both during dinner but the emotional trauma that had been the car ride back to Lexa’s. Dinner, by the way, had been probably the single most amazing one in the history of dinners, Clarke thought. The food was perfect, the venue was amazing and Lexa had been the embodiment of everything Clarke had ever dreamt of and _more._ She had been asking all the right question, said all the right things and laughed at all the good (and bad) jokes. The only thing gnawing in the back of the blonde’s head as they got out of the backseat in front of Lexa’s building was that the brunette had done most of the work. Sure, Clarke had definitely been the most talkative per usual, and had pretty much spilled her guts out at least two times, but as she followed Lexa across the street she realized that she didn’t really know her any better at all.

Lexa didn’t seem to mind, though. Not once had she tried to steer the conversation toward herself, not once had she slipped a single piece of personal, _actual_ information. She was obviously a private person, Clarke had gathered as much over the weeks, but it felt a bit weird. Lexa probably knew everything of importance about Clarke from those creepy files, but apart from Seattle and the marines, Clarke didn’t know a thing.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed that they had made their way inside until they were standing in the elevator. Lexa pressed the top button and turned to lean against the mirror, casually eyeing the blonde. Clarke pondered saying something, anything, to address her thoughts, but something about the slight tension in the room told her that this wasn’t the time.

“Are you okay?” Lexa asked her, face blank but voice a tad too sharp, giving her away.  
“Yeah, I’m good. Just got lost in thought,” Clarke smiled.

Lexa just nodded twice, letting off a small smile in return before the doors opened to reveal her apartment. Motioning for Clarke to get out first, she hung back for a second before entering the dark hallway. For a moment they just stood there, Clarke in front of the brunette, facing the opposite way. And just as the tension started to feel unbearable, the blonde turned around.

Lexa’s eyes bored into hers with that same, inquisitive undertone that they always held. No eyebrows were raised, no frown apparent, but still questioning. What was she going to do? What was her next step? Clarke didn’t have the answer. Her body seemed to though. Slowly it brought them closer together until they were only inches apart. They had done this before. It no longer felt scary to bring up her hand to Lexa’s perfect jawline, to slowly trace it with one of her fingers. It didn’t short circuit her brain anymore when the pupils in those green eyes dilated, or when a tongue stuck out to carefully wet perfect lips.

The butterflies though, they were still there. Maybe they would never go away, but Clarke didn’t mind. Because they made it so much more real when she finally leaned in those last inches and softly claimed every part of Lexa’s face. Her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her chin and finally, those perfect lips. The kiss was short but deep, carefully executed, and just as the brunette started to deepen it Clarke broke away.

“Before we do anything else, I just want to thank you. Tonight’s been amazing,” she whispered against soft lips.

Lexa just shook her head, clearly thinking nothing of it, before leaning back in. Clarke wasn’t buying it though.

“I mean it, Lexa. It was probably the best date I’ve ever been on.”

This time Lexa actually listened, and looked down on the floor for a moment before wrapping her arms around Clarke’s waist.

“I’m glad that you liked it, Clarke. That was the plan, after all. Now can I kiss you?” the brunette asked, pulling them impossibly closer together with what almost looked like a pout.

Clarke just smiled and snuck her arms around the other woman’s neck. She reveled in the moment while their lips moved against each other, playfully fighting for control. She slid her tongue over Lexa’s mouth in a testing manner, but the brunette allowed her access without further ado. The kiss got deeper and deeper, and Clarke once again felt the familiar burning sensation in her stomach, slowly spreading both inwards and downwards.

After what seemed like an eternity they had to part for air, and Clarke continued to place kisses onto Lexa’s blissfully soft skin in between breaths. But the throbbing in her body didn’t want to wait any longer, and why would she when everything that she needed to soothe it was standing right in front of her? By the looks (and sounds) of it, Lexa was every bit as eager to move things a bit further than the doorway.

Slowly untangling herself from the brunette’s arms she backed away slowly, never once letting those green eyes go. Lexa stood rooted to the spot until Clarke kicked off her shoes and raised her eyebrow in a silent dare. That seemed to release her from her invisible bonds and she slowly followed, shrugging off her coat as she went. Clarke realized the danger of backing through an apartment that she had yet to memorize and decided to turn and walk straight on to the bedroom. She reckoned it could have been a bit entertaining to do it somewhere else, on the couch, on the floor, on the kitchen counter, but there would be plenty of time for that later. And besides, she wasn’t sure if Lexa was the kind of person to have sex anywhere else than the bed in the first place.

She pulled up the ribbon that held her dress together as she passed through Lexa’s bedroom door and allowed it to slide almost all the way off so that it hung loosely on her hips by the time the brunette made it through. She knew that she might be overplaying this a bit, but it was a very strategic move that she was hoping would have the desired effect. The unreasonably low neckline meant that she usually didn’t wear a bra underneath it, and to say that was the reason she had picked it out for tonight in the first place was an exaggeration (but not a lie). However, it made for good show to simply stand there with her back exposed, and judging by the brunette’s reaction, it payed off.

“Holy shit…”

She heard footsteps approaching her from behind, and soon she felt Lexa’s strong hands caress her bare arms all the way from her wrists up her shoulders. Clarke felt her skin prickling as she took a breath to ground herself, but it got harder and harder as the featherlight touch of long fingers traced down her right side and settled on her stomach. The other hand stayed put on her left shoulder as she felt Lexa’s body press up behind her.

She felt Lexa’s steady breath on the back of her neck before the brunette’s lips pressed softly against her skin. Slowly kissing her way down to her shoulder blades, further on and up on her shoulder before doubling back and dragging her lips up the side of her neck and stopping just below Clarke’s ear.

“You’re so, so beautiful, Clarke,” Lexa whispered, voice laced with want.

Clarke’s heart was beating like a drum and every breath felt like she was drowning. Maybe she was? Maybe she was actually going to faint, right her and now, in the arms of God’s finest creation. If that was it, so be it. She wasn’t going to stop anyways, she _couldn’t_ stop. Lexa’s touch, her voice, her smell – it was all intoxicating and Clarke was an addict. She needed more.

Slowly turning around so that Lexa didn’t have to loosen her grip, she faced the brunette. As she carelessly pulled the dress off her frame and allowed it to fall to the floor she watched as Lexa struggled to stay decent and not fix her eyes on Clarke’s chest. The way she bit her lips together and squinted, it looked almost comical.

“If you wanna watch, watch. They’re yours to look at, after all,” she mused as she reached over to undo the buttons on Lexa’s blouse.

The brunette just rolled her eyes (but with a smile this time) and leaned in to capture Clarke’s lips once more in a short kiss.

“I’m trying my best to act civil, at least until I’ve got you on that bed,” she said, wrapping her arms closer around the blonde’s bare waist.

Clarke finished unbuttoning the blouse without much complication and pulled it off with a careless flick. If she ruined it, she would just buy her another. Bare skin was right now worth its weight in gold. As Lexa’s midriff was exposed Clarke couldn’t possibly be expected to look anywhere but there, except for when she locked eyes with the brunette while she lowered herself down on her knees. The brunette seemed like she was about two inches from rolling her eyes back into her head, and Clarke felt just about as collected as Lexa looked.

“Suit yourself. As long as you don’t mind if I play by other rules,” she said as she looped her fingers inside the waistband of Lexa’s faux leather pants.

Pulling the tan body closer she placed her mouth on Lexa’s stomach, kissing the spot just below her ribs as she brought her hands down to work with the fly. As she unzipped the pants she was pretty sure that she left one or two marks on the tight skin, but she couldn’t be bothered. One of Lexa’s hands rested on her shoulder, pulling her closer, and the other one tangled in Clarke’s ashy locks. Clarke’s own hands were busy sliding the skintight material down long, lean legs. Exposing even more soft, tan skin, muscles and black lace.

She started kissing her way down, from Lexa’s stomach and closer to where she knew her attention would be more appreciated, but soon the hand in her hair stopped her.

“Clarke. Get on the bed, _now._ ”

Lexa voice was hoarse and thick, and even though an emotionally sober Clarke might have said something about how it _really wasn’t_ Lexa’s turn after their last round, this Clarke wasn’t that Clarke. Instead she sloppily got on her feet and kissed the woman in front of her before backing up to the bed, sitting down and allowing Lexa to push her down and pin her to the mattress. She kissed her, deeply and harshly and with such intensity that it took Clarke’s breath away. She looked at her, dark, green eyes engraving their mark into her very soul. Then she slowly moved lower, and lower before those hands pulled off the only piece of thin fabric left on Clarke’s body.

The rest all happened in a trance. Clarke had no idea what Lexa was doing, or _how_ she did it, but she effectively managed to electrify every single nerve ending in her entire body. She was on fire. She was writhing, screaming, moaning and panting as Lexa’s hands caressed her damp skin. The brunette’s fingers found their way inside of her and worked in unison with her mouth, pulsing together. Alternating between one, two and even three, the pace would vary between high and almost painfully slow. Bringing her up, then evening out to make it last a little longer before picking up the pace again. Clarke felt her fingers dig into the muscly flesh of Lexa’s back as she was pushed against the headboard of the bed.

When she finally reached her limit, she was toeing the line of what she could both physically and mentally handle. She came hard, crashing through a hurricane-like climax and using her last resolve to not scream _too_ loudly. Lexa brought her down gently, riding out her body’s cramps with her, whispering support and gently caressing. When Clarke had finally landed, she was left a panting mess in the even greater mess that was Lexa’s bed. Lexa herself wiped off her mouth on her arm in a way that a non-exhausted Clarke probably would have found incredibly hot before reaching over to stroke a strand of hair from the blonde’s cheek.

“Hey you, what’s up?” the brunette mused.

Clarke tried to open her mouth and make a sound, any sound really, but her vocal cords seemed to have been momentarily paralyzed from all the screaming. Instead she just had to settle for shaking her head resignedly as she brought a hand up to wipe her forehead. Lexa just chuckled, something that she was doing much more frequently these days, and leaned down to kiss her shoulder.

“I’m going to get you a glass of water. You look like you might need it,” she said, lazily sliding off the bed and reaching for a black kimono.

Clarke watched her as she slid the silky garment on (shame for the view) and disappeared out from the room. While Lexa was gone she pushed herself up on shaky arms and tried her best to find a slightly more natural position than the one she had just been fucked in. Laying back down with an exhausted thud she didn’t even bother to try and cover up with a sheet, instead she just waited for a few more moments before Lexa reappeared in the doorframe.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” she tried again, voice cracking but at least holding up this time.

Lexa just smiled and sat down on her side of the bed ( _‘her’,_ really?). Offering a glass of ice water and supporting Clarke with a strong arm as the blonde drank, she simply shook her head.

“You’re not going to die from an orgasm, Clarke. However, I admit that I pushed your boundaries today. But how could I not when I only get to do this once every two weeks?” Lexa said as she put the glass down on the bedside table and slid over to lay on top of Clarke, perching herself up on her elbows.  
“How about not going out of town for two weeks to start with?” Clarke fired back, wrapping her arms around Lexa to keep her from rolling off.

Lexa felt the shift and a playful glint appeared in her eyes. Trying Clarke’s strength, she tilted slightly to the left. Clarke managed to parry and felt unreasonably strong for a second before she realized her mistake. Taking advantage of Clarke’s vanity the brunette rolled over for real this time, and ended up a short distance to the left with Clarke on top.

“Christmas is special, I won’t be away that long for a while at least. And I’m here now, right?”

Clarke just smiled and leaned down and kissed her lightly, melting into the strong embrace and completely forgetting about being mad that she had been overpowered.

“Although, if staying in DC means having a gorgeous, naked girl lying on top of me every Friday night I might feel inclined to cut back on the traveling altogether,” she continued, caressing the bare skin of Clarke’s back.  
“Only Fridays?” Clarke asked, nuzzling her face into Lexa’s neck.

She wanted more than just the weekends. She wanted Wednesday evenings and Monday mornings and Thursday afternoons. But it was too soon, and she didn’t want the mixed disappointment and eagerness that she knew was plastered onto her face to show.

“No. Every day, all day, ideally. But that wouldn’t fly, would it? Not as long as you’re you and I’m me and I’ve got my job and you’ve got your family. So, until then, how about settling for every night that we can get?”

It was frustrating. People had been at her heels, nagging on her to get back out there ever since Finn. And before Finn. For as long as she could remember. And now she had found someone, someone amazing and strong and safe, and she couldn’t show it. She couldn’t even spend time with her when she wanted. Infuriating. But rational, and that’s what this relationship had to be: rational.

“It’ll have to do, I guess. But now, regardless of how much you like having a ‘naked girl on top of you’, I’m cold. So either you’ll roll us back over or you’ll get me some clothes.”

This time Clarke was almost sure she saw a pout. It only lasted for a microsecond, but it _was_ there. But both of them knew that Lexa didn’t particularly like to be on top in this specific scenario, so when she carefully slid out beneath Clarke and walked into to her closet no one was surprised, although she would admit to being a bit disappointed. She shuffled around for a moment before turning around and holding up a tank top and a pair of track pants with a ‘yes/no’-look.

Clarke just laughed and shook her head.

“Even though your obliviousness is endearing, you have to be realistic, Lexa. There’s at least 1.5 me to every you, and there’s no way I’m ever getting into those pants.”

Lexa just rolled her eyes before putting back the pants and pulling out a pair of track _shorts_ instead. Grabbing them, a t-shirt and a hoodie she walked back out of the closet and threw them on the bed.

“Here you go. The shorts are too big for me anyways and really stretchy, so they’re going to fit regardless of whatever body illusions you have. Plus, they will make your ass look great. I’ll be in the living room, come find me if you want to,” she said with a tendency to a wink before leaving the room once more.

Clarke stood with a groan, every single muscle hurt like an inferno, and started looking around for her underwear. Even if she made an educated guess that Lexa would hardly press on that being an issue, she wasn’t that kind of girl. Finally finding them behind and armchair (no questions asked) she slid on the t-shirt and the hoodie, leaving it unzipped, and finally the shorts. Lexa was right, they fit her perfectly and she actually had to tie them at the waist and not the other way around. And truth be told, her ass looked good in them.

Taking a final swig from her water glass she walked out from the bedroom and into the big open space area that was kitchen, lounge area and living room. There, at the far end of the room, stood Lexa. Clad in only that black kimono, she looked out of the panorama windows and talked to someone over the phone as she scrolled methodically on her iPad. The clock in the bedroom had read 12.15AM, when this woman said that she was working around the clock she really wasn’t joking.

Clarke hesitated for a moment, she didn’t want to impose or disturb, but Lexa _had_ said to come find her. Realizing that they would have to cross this line someday anyway, she made her way over. Lexa either didn’t notice her approaching or she simply didn’t care, because when Clarke finally crept up from behind and wrapped herself around her, she barely flinched. Instead she leant back into the embrace, silently approving, before continuing her conversations as if nothing happened.

It didn’t take long for Clarke to get bored. She didn’t want to look at the iPad. Even if Lexa made no effort to hide it she felt like that was highly unethical, so instead she reburied her face in the crook of Lexa’s neck, focusing on the sound of her voice and planting soft kisses on soft skin. Lexa didn’t acknowledge her actions, but she didn’t shy away either and Clarke saw goosebumps appearing all over the smooth surface. So she resiliently kept up her efforts, and when Lexa finally hung up the call five minutes later she almost dropped the iPad and the phone on the ground in her hurry to turn around and kiss the blonde.

“I might be the death of you, but you’re definitely going to be the death of my business,” she scolded.  
“I’ll just get dad to increase you pay for every customer you lose because of me, it’s cool,” she teased back.

Lexa just swatted her arm away and walked over to the couch. Sitting down she put phone and pad on the coffee table and opened up her laptop. Typing at rapid pace for a while and scrolling between files for a while before looking back up at Clarke.

“I’m pretty sure that would only make things worse. And you do realize that it would, for all intents and purposes, be like some weird kind of prostitution, right?”

Clarke just rolled her eyes.

“Okay, so scrap that then. How much longer do you have to work for?” she asked instead.

Lexa seemed to be adding things up in her head, staring blankly at the screen for a few moments before answering.  
  
“Not long, maybe half an hour or something like that. I just have to catch up on things that happened during the evening. But I can wait until you go to bed if you want to hang out?”  
“No, it’s cool. I might just go to bed now anyway, I’ve got work tomorrow after all, and I’d love to be awake and spend some time with you in the morning,” Clarke just smiled, she was really tired, and she wanted the brunette to know that she was cool with this.

“Are you sure, Clarke? I promised you this evening, after all.”  
“You did, and you delivered in every best way possible. You’re my favourite date, ever,” she said, walking over to kiss the brunette on the head before walking back to the master bedroom and into the adjacent bathroom.

She managed to find both make-up remover (not that there was much left on her face) and a pack of spare toothbrushes, and before no time she was ready for bed. She contemplated sleeping in the t-shirt, but she wanted to be able to snuggle up to Lexa during the night without boiling so she opted for just underwear instead. Creeping under the sheets (that smelled not so faintly of sex) she turned off the bedside light and found a comfy position.

True to her word, almost exactly thirty minutes later Lexa came into the room. Managing to go about her nighttime routine almost soundlessly, Clarke could feel the other end of the mattress dip as the other woman snuck in. Probably trying not to wake her, Lexa stayed put on her side much to Clarke’s unamusement. Taking matters into her own hands she rolled over and rested her head on Lexa’s bare chest. Shifting a few times until they both found a comfortable position Lexa’s hand settled, drawing small circles at the small of Clarke’s back.

The serenity of the night claimed the room, and a calmness settled over them both. Clarke listened to the older woman’s heartbeat, ignoring all of the boring doctor stuff that usually came with that activity and focusing on aligning her breath with the steady rhythm.

“Lexa?” she whispered after a while.  
“Uhum?” came the muffled reply mere moments later.

“What’s in Vancouver?”

The room fell silent again. At first, Clarke simply thought that Lexa was gathering her thoughts to explain, but after almost a minute she started to suspect that there wasn’t going to an explanation at all. Getting the brunette to open up was probably going to be a long and difficult process. But she had all the time in the world.

Right before she fell asleep, a voice barely louder than a whisper filled the room.

“It’s not a what, it’s a who.”

And then silence was once more.

xxx

When Lexa awoke, it was to the sight of a serene, angel-like face sleeping soundly just inches away from her own. They had drifted apart somewhat during the night, but their hands were still interlocked and neither had drifted far. She could still feel the heat radiating from the blonde’s body and it felt nice. Even if it was Saturday she should probably get into the office, at least for a few hours. But looking upon that face she realized that it could wait. Worst case scenario she would work from home later on while Clarke watched a movie or something, but she wanted to allow herself to wake up next to the blonde just this once.

The time read 7.15AM, and even though she herself considered six hours a good night’s sleep, Clarke (by the looks of it) did not. So she simply nestled down deeper under the covers, scooted over a bit closer to the blonde and closed her eyes. For once content with just waiting.

By some magic will, Lexa actually managed to fall back asleep. She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened, and to her even bigger surprise the clock this time said almost a quarter to nine. It took her a moment to realize that what had stirred her this time was the buzzing from her phone on the nightstand. Groggily reaching over she didn’t even bother to check who it was before answering.

“Lexa Woods,” she said per usual, after discretely clearing her throat.  
 _“Hey boss, it’s me. I just wanted to check up on you, you’re usually in by now,”_ Luna’s voice said over the line.

She was right, Lexa was usually in by now, and she figured she could have left some kind of message. If she had been the excellent strategist that she thought herself to be, she probably should have seen this coming even before she left the office yesterday evening. But she had refused to take anything out in advance, secretly worried about any kind of failure or rejection. And now, here she was.

“Hey Luna. I’m good, thanks for keeping track on me. But I won’t be in until after lunch today so redirect any calls to my cell, okay?”  
“ _Will do. So I take it last night went well?_ ”

Lexa was _not_ about to dignify that with an answer.

“ _Goodbye_ , Luna. I’ll see you later,” she pressed into her phone before hanging up on her snickering secretary.

As she turned to put her phone back on the nightstand a slender arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back.

“Stay. Don’t go,” Clarke’s gravelly voice came from behind.  
“Don’t worry, it was just Luna. I’m just putting my phone away,” Lexa said soothingly before laying down and wrapping the blonde in her arms.

Placing soft kisses onto the younger woman’s crown, she felt Clarke fight the urge to fall back asleep a few times before stretching sore muscles and tilting her head back to look Lexa in the eyes.

“Gmornin’,” she smiled lazily.  
“Good morning to you too,” Lexa smiled back.  
“I could really get used to waking up like this,” Clarke mused, placing a kiss on Lexa’s neck and breathing her in.  
“Me too.”

Clarke followed up with another kiss on soft skin, languidly trailing down to her collarbone, then her shoulder…

“It’s almost nine. What do you want for breakfast?” Lexa asked, trying to keep her cool.

Clarke was having none of it, apparently completely uninterested in the notion of getting out of bed.

“ _You,”_ she said in between unbelievably soft kisses that made their way down Lexa’s arm.  
“I was talking about food, Clarke,” Lexa tried to scold.

“And I don't care,” was the simple reply.

This was problematic. In Lexa’s opinion, Clarke was the unmatched sexiest woman in DC. In most people’s opinion, this was a dream morning. Waking up next to someone that you actually craved, and then being told straight up that they wanted to fuck you for breakfast. With every kiss Clarke pressed onto her body her mind raced faster, her pupils grew bigger and her breath became shorter. This was great. It _should_ be great. So why then, was she feeling like she wanted to crawl out of her skin?

She was a giver, that wasn’t news for anyone, even less for Clarke. She had dutifully (and _very_ willingly) made the blonde come undone a number of times by now. She had started to learn the spots, the angles, the rhythms, all the small things that made her tick. But she had yet to allow Clarke to give back. Every time the tables started to turn, she would be there to turn them back. Every time Clarke would gravitate downwards, she would flip them around and work her over once more, secretly hoping that it would tire her out.

It wasn’t that she was nervous, she really wasn’t. It wasn’t that she wasn’t ‘feeling it’ enough, she really did. It wasn’t a trust-thing, Clarke was one of the few people on this planet that she had actually grown to have some confidence in. No, it wasn’t any of those things, of that she was sure. How? Because she knew exactly what the problem was.

Long ago, almost in another lifetime, she had loved someone. She had loved deeply and intensely and with every fiber of her being until she didn’t anymore. Then she had been broken. Torn in pieces too small to ever put back together again. And then she had decided, or no - that was the wrong word because it had never been a choice – she had been washed back up without enough heart left to ever love or be loved again.

She didn’t want love. She resented it, even. _Love was weakness_ and that was Lexa’s one truth. Fairly easy when there was no one left to love, not even herself. But just because someone stops looking for love it doesn’t mean that they stop looking for closeness. Intimacy, proximity, the feeling of skin against skin, basic human instincts that she wasn’t above pursuing. Whenever she went home with someone she would give them what they wanted, make sure that they were happy and content, and then she would go home.

Maybe it was a strange routine, but it felt right. Because even if it felt good to be touched in the right way, it felt okay just to be touched. And okay was enough when you only looked for fleeting. Okay was actually even better than good, because good meant that she would remember their name and face and maybe even their home address. And that exponentially drove down the odds of bad things happening.

 _But then there was Clarke._ She knew her address. She dreamed about her face and thought about her name _constantly._ Clarke wasn’t fleeting. Clarke touched her in the right way all the time: when they bumped into each other’s sides while walking, when she took her hand, when she slept peacefully on her chest. Clarke wasn’t a basic instinct. And if she was being really honest, Clarke might be the key to it all.

Clarke might be the one who would unlock her and open her back up, and even if Lexa deep down wanted nothing more it was also a risk she wasn’t prepared to take, yet. Because love was weakness still, even if the voice at the back of her head grew weaker with every kiss.

So, instead of just surrendering to the blonde and her shrewd wishes, Lexa once again flipped them over in one fluid motion. Pinning the blonde down to the bed with her arms above her head she allowed herself to hungrily revel in the sight of a marble chest, contoured collarbones and the swell of Clarke’s…

_Focus, Lexa._

Clarke wasn’t happy. She wasn’t an idiot though, she saw through Lexa’s powerplay-façade without effort and she knew better than to push, yet. They both knew that Lexa would have to start coughing up answers sooner rather than later if this was going to work, but for now it seemed like the blonde was willing to cut her some slack. _And I’ll take every second I can get,_ Lexa thought to herself.

Leaning in to kiss those soft, pink lips for a few moments, she tried her best to convey her gratitude through her lips. She was thankful for Clarke and her patience. And she truly felt like a piece of shit every time she let her down. But she felt even shittier because they both knew that she was too proud to admit it.

“Just a friendly reminder that you’re a doctor who’s supposed to be at work in five hours. You need rest and food and I’m none of that, neither will I stand in your way to get them,” she lied, as softly as she could. _  
_“If you could only tell me what’s going on in that head of yours,” Clarke whispered before freeing her arm and stroking over Lexa’s cheekbone with her thumb.  
“But until then, you’re going to have to make me pancakes.”

Half an hour later, Lexa had taken a shower and was standing in her kitchen flipping said pancakes in a frying pan. Clarke was sitting on the counter behind her, un-showered and dressed in only socks and the only oversized sweatshirt Lexa owned (except for the one she had donated to Clarke a few weeks back). She looked like a minor train wreck with her hair in a messy top bun and was in stark contrast to Lexa who already wore slacks and a blouse. She was scrolling through her phone in a rather exaggerated and very Clarke-esque manner. She would gasp, then laugh and ‘woah’ out loud every time she came across something interesting. Every five minutes she would jump down and hug Lexa from behind. Commenting on how it ‘smelled amazing’ or ask if she needed any help. Lexa would lean back into the embrace and then politely decline, and Clarke would jump back onto the counter and back into her phone.

It was, once again, oddly domestic. It felt like something they had done a million times before and would do a million times again. Strange, to feel such certainty about something so new and fragile. But it wasn’t an entirely uncomfortable feeling, so Lexa allowed it to linger, grow, build a home for itself inside her soul.

“There’s a stack ready for you now, Clarke. Dig in, I’ll join you as soon as the rest are ready,” she said over her shoulder.  
“No way. I’ll wait until their all done,” Clarke replied without even looking up from her phone.  
“They’ll grow cold if you don’t eat them now,” she argued.  
“And I don’t care. I wanna have breakfast _with_ you, Lexa, I’m not caving again.”

This was the second time Clarke had said those words today, but just as she pointed out, this time they sounded very final. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate Clarke questioning her every statement, she did, but she wasn’t used to stepping back. It would certainly take some practice.

“Fine, we’ll both eat cold food then. You know, for a spoiled brat you’re pretty damn considerate,” she surrendered with feigned hardness in her voice.

Once again she heard a gasp behind her, and when she turned to smirk at the blonde she was met with a slack jaw and big eyes. She had hit a nerve, _jackpot._

“What _did you call me?”  
_ “Spoiled. And a brat. Theoretically I also called you considerate, but I’ve got a feeling that’s not what you’re hung up on,” she smiled sweetly.

Clarke just looked at her flatly as she jumped down from the counter. But Lexa wasn’t deceived, behind that sweet, passive demeanor hid simmering rage.

“Take that back,” she growled as she stalked closer.

Lexa had enough sense to turn around and face the approaching blonde. She felt adrenalin in her body. Even though she could easily take a rampaging Clarke out, she didn’t know if she was going to jump her or kiss her and honestly, both alternatives were pretty damn hot.

“What if I don’t?” she simply asked, keeping her cool.

It was a joke, she was almost certain that Clarke understood that. Almost. Regardless, she couldn’t fold now.

“ _Take it back.”  
_ “I don’t think I will.”  
“I _will_ jump you, right now.”  
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really sexy when you’re angry?”

That was the last straw. Clarke surged forward, but Lexa was expecting it and jumped out of her way with practiced ease. Languidly stalking a few feet away she looked over her shoulder with a smile, she was _so_ going to milk this.

“Honey, if you’re going to jump a marine you need to be more convincing than that,” she purred.

Clarke just raised an eyebrow and shook her head before she ran after the brunette.

“Remember that I’m a doctor. I know how to make it hurt!”

Lexa just laughed and jogged in the other direction. She was casually thinking about her next move; should she keep up the chase for a while longer or simply turn around and wrestle Clarke to the ground straight away? She heard the blonde approach from behind, and just as she was going to turn around Clarke did something rather unexpected. She literally _jumped_ her.

Lean legs wrapped around her waist and a pair of arms around her neck as Clarke climbed onto her back, effectively clinging on with considerable strength.

“Well then, isn’t this what marines do? Measure their dicks and carry stuff around on their backs?” she mused into Lexa’s ear.

She smiled (she wanted to laugh but that would’ve been over the top), because Clarke was partly right. Halfheartedly she tried to pry the blonde off her, but her thighs had a steady lock around her waist so instead she shuffled over to the sofa and sat down on the edge with Clarke behind her.

“I could carry you around for a while longer, princess, but I’m afraid the pancakes will burn” she said, turning around to kiss her.

But the face she was met with wasn’t the warm, sunny face she had come to expect. A cloud had drawn over Clarke’s features and even though she was smiling she almost looked like she had been stabbed.

Lexa immediately brought her hand up to Clarke’s cheek, looking in between her eyes for some kind of sign.

“Hey you, I was only joking. You being a spoiled brat is miles from the truth and we both know it. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Clarke’s smile grew a little, but it still didn’t reach her eyes. Her pale hand reached up to grab Lexa’s and squeeze it.

“I know, don’t apologize. It’s got nothing to do with that, I was just reminded of something. It’s nothing really, just… can you maybe not call me princess again?” she asked hesitantly.  
“Sure, I promise. I’m sorry for whatever this is. Do you want to talk about it?”  
“Not really, just being here with you helps.”

Lexa just smiled and leaned in to kiss her. One kiss turned into two, and the second one lasted for more than a minute before she reluctantly broke away.

“Okay gorgeous, I really have to go and make sure that I’m not burning the house down. Sit tight and I’ll be back in a minute, with pancakes and coffee.”

Clarke was smiling again and drew Lexa in for one final peck on the lips by the collar of her blouse before letting her go.

Lexa walked back into the kitchen and finished frying up the rest of the batter (the pancake that was in the pan had not caught fire, luckily, but had turned into coal and had to be thrown away). She felt Clarke’s eyes bore into her back and briefly wondered what had happened to the blonde’s phone until she realized that it was still lying on the counter. Making a mental note to bring it along with the breakfast tray she was stacking, she momentarily blocked out the staring and the warm way it made her feel until she was done.

Then she picked up the tray that was now filled with fruit, honey (for Lexa), maple syrup (for Clarke), pancakes, cutlery, Clarke’s phone and most importantly: coffee. Setting it down on the table in front of the coach, she plopped down next to the girl already seated and draped an arm around her shoulders.

“Dig in, my dear. This is probably the most extravagant breakfast you’ll ever get from the woman who’s lived on smoothies-to-go since forever,” she said with a smile and a wink.

Clarke happily obliged and stacked a plate full of pancakes and toppings. Grabbing a fork, she chopped off a piece and put it into her mouth. Lexa almost choked on air as her eyes rolled back and she groaned, _loudly_.

“Lexa, this is _amazing._ I’m serious, these are the best pancakes I’ve had in a looong time,” she said, opening her eyes and staring at the brunette.  
“Well if this is the reaction I’m going to get every time I might just revise my previous statement. I’m making you pancakes into infinity from now on,” Lexa mused and leaned in.

Clarke put a hand on her shoulder, effectively stopping her with a resolute shake of her head. Lexa didn’t pout, because she was _Lexa,_ but it was damn close out of sheer surprise. Since when did Clarke _not_ feel the same way about wanting to kiss her at every given moment?

“Uh-uh, you have to taste it. No kissing until you try a piece. It’s _that_ good,” the blonde said, chopping off another piece with her fork.  
“But if I kiss you now I’ll taste it anyway, through you,” she tried.  
“Ew Lexa, that’s gross. And it wouldn’t work either. Just shut up and eat,” Clarke frowned, forcing the piece into her mouth without asking for permission.

Clarke had been right, they were good pancakes indeed. So instead of making a scene she just swatted away at the blonde before making her own plate. They soon rolled into light conversation, the kind that you have at breakfast, over steaming mugs of coffee and it was perfect. Soon, Lexa turned on the news on the TV to watch as they ate, and before long the news turned into a reality show. Clarke was intrigued while Lexa was appalled, so she took to cleaning of the table instead while Clarke continued to give her unrequested real-time commentary. The commentary continued as she walked into her office to get her laptop and some files, returned to the sofa to try and get some work done and only stopped when she threatened to pull out the power-cord of the TV.

Clarke fell silent, as silent as was physically possible that was, and Lexa actually managed to get some work done. Once or twice the blonde would lean over to steal a kiss, or she would reach out and interlace their hands, but before she knew it the time read 12.30PM.

“I really need to get into the shower if I’m going to be ready for work in time,” Clarke groaned from the other side of the couch.  
“That is probably true, yes,” Lexa replied distantly.

“Do you mind if I borrow some clothes, just to wear until I change into my scrubs? I’ve got a spare change at the hospital, but I’d rather not have to walk in there in a fancy dress.”  
“Uhum.”  
“By the way, are you going into the office when I leave? I’m just wondering if you could drop me off or if I should get a cab. You really don’t have to call Steve, though.”  
“Sounds great.”  
“What sounds great? Lexa, are you even listening to me?”  
“Definitely.”

Lexa was obviously not paying attention to a word Clarke said. She wanted to, but the only thing that could ever be even close to as interesting as the blonde herself was new cases and this one was particularly juicy. Therefore, it came as a mild surprise and a slight chock when her laptop suddenly slammed shut in the middle of a sentence. Offended, she looked up at the other woman with a frown.

“Lexa. I need you to answer my questions.”

Clarke was looking down on her with intense blue eyes and spoke with her best doctor voice.

“What questions?” Lexa asked confused.

That only earned her an eyeroll.

“Can I borrow some clothes?” Clarke carried on.  
“Yes, of course.”  
“Can you drop me off on your way to work?”  
“Sure, that won’t be a problem.”

Clarke just smiled and nodded, but Lexa was fairly sure she was missing something because that smile was just a tad too sweet for someone who was just about to go to work on a Saturday. But never mind, no use in fretting over things she didn’t understand anyway.

“You know you could’ve just asked me _without_ manhandling my computer, right?” she said, raising her eyebrows at the blonde.

Clarke just shook her head once more and laughed as she walked off to the bathroom.

“You’re an idiot, Lexa Woods. A cute idiot, but an idiot nevertheless,” she said over her shoulder, and Lexa was once again confused.

xxx

For the second time she was sitting in the passenger seat of Lexa’s BMW, on her way to the hospital and leaving her new favourite place behind. Her hand rested softly on top of Lexa’s own, who in turn was placed on the stick. Washington passed them by outside the window, and Clarke mostly spent the drive people watching. She looked at the children, the elderly and the young. Everyone with a different story to tell. She looked at the lonely people, the ones who seemed like they were on their way to somewhere, or someone. She looked at the couples holding hands as they made their way down the street.

Her chest couldn’t help but pang slightly at that. She wanted to switch places with them, to spend her Saturday walking down the streets hand in hand with Lexa. To stop spontaneously for a cup of coffee, to explore the stores downtown and find a shirt or a necklace that fit the colour of the brunette’s eyes perfectly. To buy it when she wasn’t looking (not like _that_ would ever happen, but in Clarke’s dream it did) and give it to her when they came back home. But that was someone else’s reality. Instead she just squeezed Lexa’s hand a little tighter, reminding herself to be happy for what she already had.

Lexa seemed to sense the shift in the mood, or maybe she just reacted to the squeeze, but either way she looked over at the blonde with a slightly worried crease in her forehead.

“Hey Clarke, I just wanted to thank you for this. I had a really good time, last night as well as this morning. We should do it again some time,” she said in a very Lexa-like fashion, trying to brush it off as something much more casual than it was.

Clarke just brought their hands up to her face and kissed Lexa’s knuckles carefully.

“If that was your way of asking me out on a second date, it was the feeblest attempt in the history of dates.”

Lexa was clearly not amused, instead she just rolled her eyes and redirected her focus back on the road as the lights turned green. Once again, it made Clarke laugh.

“But don’t worry. Because I had an amazing time as well. I’ve loved every minute of these past hours, and I’ve loved every minute of _you._ So, luckily for you, the next date will be on me and I will do all the out-asking.”

Saying that she had ‘loved every minute of you’ wasn’t the same as saying that she loved her, right? Not that she didn’t, but at the same time she wasn’t _completely_ sure that she did just yet. She was heading there, both fast and hard, but for starters she would need more time and she would also need some more string from Lexa to cling onto.

Fortunately, Lexa didn’t seem to read into the phrasing at all. She just carried on driving with a smirk for a moment before she spoke.

“I guess that’s something to look forward to then. Given I accept, that is. I might just turn it down due to all that attitude,” she teased.  
“Hush now. First of all, you _like_ the attitude. Besides, I might have an attitude, but you’re the only one here with an attitude _problem_. And before you fight me, when was the last time you said something nice to someone and meant it?”

Lexa almost looked offended for a moment before she got to thinking, then she turned even more offended as she inevitably came to the conclusion that Clarke was right.

“I say nice things to you all the time. Sometimes I say nice things to Lincoln. And Nyko. And I think nice things about Indra but I’m pretty sure she would sue me if I said them out loud,” Lexa mulled quietly.  
“My point exactly. But don’t get me wrong, I love having all those soft sides of you all to myself,” she mused back, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.

Lexa wanted to fight but she didn’t, instead she settled for a disinterested look and more silence. But she secured her grip on Clarke’s hand and traced small circles on her knuckles. _Progress,_ Clarke thought and smiled out through the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the comments and kudos, they're really encouraging! I've heard a rumor that we have a slight turn of events to look forward to in the upcoming chapters. But what do I know, it's not like I'm the author or anything...
> 
> Stay safe! xx


	12. A strike to the gut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read your lovely comments. Frequent updates are apparently not frowned upon, which was good to hear because I'm *still bored*. I hinted a slight turn of events and here goes!

_Gyromaniac, 21:20  
_ _Hey, whatcha doin?_

_Dr. Clarkey, 21:21  
_ _Just came home, u?_

_Gyromaniac, 21:22  
_ _Just chillin, was talking with Bellamy about meeting up for a beer. You in?_

_Dr. Clarkey, 21:24  
_ _Sorry, can’t. Been working late the past few nights, need to hang w my mum to keep her_ _satisfied_

_Gyromaniac, 21:24  
Ah, say hi to mama Griff from me!!  
_ _Project Commander is going good I presume?_

_Dr. Clarkey, 21:25  
_ _Ugh, please stop calling her that. But yes it is_

_Gyromaniac, 21:25  
_ _Its not me its the media!!  
Shame, I liked Clarke Griffin, gonna miss her_

_Dr. Clarkey, 21:27  
_ _Stop being so dramatic, I’ll see u tomorrow at ur dads thing?_

_Gyromaniac, 21:28  
_ _Unfortunately. Is she coming?_

_Dr. Clarkey, 21:29  
_ _Dunno. She would try but she’s busy and she doesn’t like working when I’m there  
Says its "distracting"_

_Gyromaniac, 21:30  
_ _;) ;) ;)_

Clarke just snorted and threw her phone onto her bed before walking downstairs into the living room. She could use some offline-time. Her mother was laying on the sofa, channel surfing with one hand and scrolling on her iPad with the other.

“Hey ma, what’s up?” she asked, plopping down in an armchair.  
“Oh, hey Clarke! I didn’t hear you come home, I thought you were staying downtown again,” Abby said, sitting up properly.  
“Nah, I've missed you guys, even though Marcus isn’t here, is he?”

She hadn't seen Abby since Friday morning. They had worked different shifts, and she had told her parents that she had slept downtown Friday night to avoid the commute. It wasn’t a lie, but she had carefully avoided how, where or with whom. It wasn't uncommon for her to spend a night at Raven's or Octavia's, and as long as they didn’t ask, it was all good.

“No, he’s going to be stuck in his office until morning. He needs to get things done tonight so that he can make it to the party tomorrow.”

Clarke just nodded, it made sense after all.

“How are things going at work, then? Are they pushing you hard enough?”

Abby kept the conversation going the only (easy) way she knew how: by talking about doctor-stuff. Clarke sometimes thought about what would had happened if she _hadn't_ gone into medicine. What did normal families even talk about? 

“Yes ma, I’m pretty sure I’m on the famous edge right now.”  
“Good. No one has ever become a good…”  
“… surgeon by sitting on one’s ass, I know mum. You tell me that at least once a week,” Clarke groaned.

If anyone ever thought that she was benefitting from her mother being a surgeon, Clarke would’ve laughed them in the face. In fact, she was pretty sure that her mother would’ve driven her twice as hard if she had been in charge of her training. Fortunately, she was not, even if Clarke suspected that she had used her contacts to put pressure on her residents every time they gave her a particularly grueling shift.

“I only say it because I want you to succeed, Clarke. I had to learn the hard way and I would prefer for you to be tough from the beginning. But you know that I’m immensely proud of you no matter what,” Abby said, smiling at her only child sitting across the coffee table.  
“I know. And I love you for that.”

Clarke beamed back before they both went back to focus on the TV. For the next half an hour or so they spoke about nothing in particular, sometimes commenting on the show and sometimes gabbing back and forth about something unimportant, like houseplant preferences or their favorite scalpels. When the time was approaching half past eleven Abby stretched and yawned a few times before getting on her feet.

“I’m spent and on for a morning shift tomorrow, so I’d better go to bed. Will I see you for breakfast?”  
“Yeah, I’ll be down by 6:30 at the latest. Sleep tight, mom!”  
“Great. It’s been nice having you home for a change, even though I’m sure that you’d rather be with your _friend_ ,” she smiled.

Clarke was left on the sofa with her mouth open, what had her mother just insinuated? Well, okay, it was pretty obvious _what_ , and not very hard to figure out _why_ either. Clarke was a grown woman in her prime, as her father would say, and when someone like spends the nights at some unknown location it was usually for one reason and one alone. It was a friendly jab, intended as a joke, one that she would normally appreciate. This time, however, she felt her pulse rise.

Her mother didn’t know about Lexa, she couldn’t, and her tone had been casual. But the remark had been made nevertheless and she couldn’t help but draw up all the worst possible scenarios in her head.

There was the one where Abby finds out, tells Markus, Markus fires Lexa, Lexa's reputation crumbles, Lexa grows to hate her for all eternity and Clarke dies miserable and alone. _Or_ the slightly more Hollywood-friendly one where Abby finds out, becomes chocked and appalled, calls Lexa and tells her to stay away from her daughter which forces Clarke to escape through her window in the middle of the night and escape on a plane to Europe where she and Lexa lives out the rest of their lives in anonymous but happy hiding.

Shaking her head to jump back into reality she managed to force out a smile and a laugh at her mother before Abby went on to bed. Feeling around in her pockets for her phone she remembered that she had left it upstairs. Getting out of the chair she turned all the lights out except for a few at the entrance (for Marcus when/if he got home) and went up to her bedroom. She resisted the urge to grab her phone and text Lexa straight away and got changed and brushed her teeth before snuggling in under the covers.

_Lexa Woods, 21:56  
_ _I won’t be able to make it tomorrow, I’m sorry. I’ll send Echo instead, she’s good at what she does. Sleep tight xxx_

Almost an hour ago. It was a bit disappointing that Lexa wouldn’t be working at Raven’s father's party, she had to admit that. But it wasn’t a surprise, Lexa _did_ always say how she didn’t like working with Clarke around and if Clarke was being honest maybe it was for the best. It would be a whole lot easier not giving them away if the brunette wasn’t there to begin with. But a warm feeling spread inside her anyway, because Lexa still made a fuss. Theoretically, she didn’t _have_ to send anyone. Physical protection wasn’t a part of the contract per se, but Lexa had mentioned that she sent someone along on various stuff that Marcus did anyway, 'just to be safe'. Clarke suspected that it was out of courtesy to Clarke herself (even if Lexa would never admit that) and in this particular case she was practically positive that Lexa secretly worried about her personally.

She would fret every time Clarke was on a subway or walking the streets late at night, and even though she found it kind of adorable she had repeatedly told the brunette to stop for her own mental health’s sake.

_Clarke Griffin, 22:57  
_ _It’s fine. I miss u tho. Good night xo_

xxx

She had made her entrance on her own today. Her shift had dragged out as usual, and Octavia with her family as well as her parents had already made it inside the venue by the time Steve dropped her off. It had been undramatic, she had flowed through the crowed as usual, laughing here and cracking a joke there, all in the spirit of networking. She had spotted Octavia from a distance and decided that the Blake family would be her first real stop. O was there with her mother Aurora, her father Atticus and, of course, Bellamy. Her mother was the heir of Blodrain Images, a media conglomerate of huge proportions and quite possibly the largest in America.

She was a loving and caring woman, but strict when she needed to be. From an early age she had groomed Bellamy to one day step into her shoes and to take care of his family as well as the business, something that Clarke suspected had contributed to his overprotectiveness.

“Clarke, such a pleasure to see that you could join us,” Aurora said, opening her arms to draw her almost-adoptive daughter into her arms.  
“Look who finally made it out of that brick-built prison of yours,” Atticus joked and pulled her in for a hug as well.

He was a tall, Greek and bald man in his early fifties with an unusually large portion of muscle mass for someone who mainly spent his days behind a desk. Originally a photographer, he would gladly tell the story of how he was hired by Aurora’s father when he was just a teenager and fell in love with Aurora (whom he then had to spend the next ten years trying to convince into marrying him).

“Aurora, Atticus, you look great!” she beamed.  
“Oh, hush now, child. I know flattery when I hear it,” Aurora scolded with a gleam in her eye.

“I saw you attracting the same amount of looks as usual when you walked in, haven’t lost your touch yet,” Bellamy drawled with what was supposed to be mockery, but Clarke just accepted the ‘compliment’ with a smile and a wave of her hand.  
“Shut up, Bellamy. It’s not Clarke’s fault that she looks like a million bucks, save your attitude for the filthy old men who grant themselves the liberty to gawk at her like that,” Octavia bit back at her brother who just glared at her.

Clarke was used to their arguing and just squeezed Octavia’s arm in a grateful manner before allowing them to bicker on in between themselves. She fell into a pleasant conversation with Atticus and Aurora, mostly about work and politics (as usual). Other guests would come and go, join in the conversation for a few minutes, sometimes derailing it with irrelevant pleasantries or questions before disappearing back into the crowd. Just as Aurora promised to make another hearty donation to Marcus’ campaign the star of the night approached them.

Pablo Reyes, oil magnate, billionaire and most importantly the father of Raven Reyes, walked toward them clad in a finely tailored all black suit. He had filled up a bit around the waist over the years, but he was still a handsome man with his thick, black hair and alert, surprisingly green eyes. He _always_ smiled, no matter what, and even if Clarke thought about it for several long minutes she could only remember that she had seen him look unhappy once: at his wife’s funeral.

“Ah, the Blakes and Clarke Griffin, mi hermosa. I’m so happy that you could make it,” he boomed.

After hugging them all, one by one, he stopped to look around.

“Has anyone seen my daughter? She was with me just a few moments ago but now she has dissappeared,” he said, nervously turning his head from side to side.

“I’m right here, father. I was just saying hello to Commander Shumway,” Raven piped up from his side.  
“Ah, right, I must speak with him at once,” he said before walking off in a hurry.

Raven just rolled her eyes, her father was, all his qualities aside, known for being rather… ‘scattered’.

“Jesus Christ, he’s been like this all night. If he asks anyone else if they’ve ‘seen his daughter’ I _will_ detonate something,” Raven rumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose.  
“Please don’t, the security team will lose their shit,” Clarke said, quietly thinking about the state it would leave poor Echo in.

Raven just curved her lips and nodded, acknowledging the truth in Clarke’s statement.

“I’m just going to get myself something to drink. I’ll be right back,” she continued before turning around and searching for a waiter.

Falling short she walked off toward the bar, silently cursing about how Pablo _really_ could have afforded to hire a few. The band playing was, unless she was completely mistaken, the same as her family often hired but this time they weren’t playing Christmas tunes. Instead they played swing classics, ‘Bach Goes to Town’ ringing out in the periphery. There were even a few people dancing on the big floor, waltzing around with slow, flowing movements. The building was old, with marble walls and roof, big chandeliers and arched windows. The stone floor was checkered in white and black.

A long, ebony crafted bar reached along the far end of the room, and several tux-clad bartenders served the many members of the Washington socialite who were looking for a quiet getaway and something to take the edge off, just like Clarke. As she leaned against the countertop, she felt a presence next to her. Not bothering to turn in case it was one of the usual unwanted male suitors, she patiently waited for them to speak up. She didn’t have to wait for long.

“This is one hundred percent the most boring shit that I’ve been assigned to in a _long_ while,” a female voice said.

Surprised (and silently happy to be proven wrong) she looked over her shoulder, because that voice could only belong to one person.

“I mean, if I wasn’t sure before I sure am now,” Echo continued with a chuckle.  
“Sure about what?” Clarke asked confusedly.  
“That Lexa’s fucking you, of course.”

Clarke’s face went from pale to blood red in less than two seconds. Echo seemed to take immense joy in this, and her smirk grew wider by the second. Clarke decided right there and then that she despised this woman.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she rambled before turning back to the bar.

She waved angrily at a bartender to come and serve her, she had waited long enough.

“ _Sure_ you don’t. I get it, you can’t go public. It would ruin Lexa’s rep and be potentially harmful to you daddy’s campaign. But I was sent here, a trained, expensive professional, to be your personal guard dog at an event where the worst thing that could happen is that a filthy old man will try and grope you. Something that could have been easily dealt with by that little two-member mob-crew you’ve got on you heels. _Or_ that oily, Blodrain-brat that obviously has a crush on you but shows it by being an asshole. My entire presence here is brighter-than-the-sun evidence that Lexa’s holds you at a certain _level_. Deny it all you want, Blondie, but look me in the eyes without turning maroon while you do it.”

_Fucking Sherlock Holmes,_ Clarke thought while glaring at Echo and taking sips from her Moscow. Of course the woman was right, but Clarke wasn’t about to dignify it with an answer. But she had been brought up with better manners than just standing there, brooding. And there was more to be lost from a fight than it was from a truce. So she decided to be strategic.

“Can I buy you a drink?” she asked, daringly raising an eyebrow.  
“Unfortunately not, I’m here to protect you, remember?” Echo said, still smirking.  
“As you so eloquently said yourself, there’s nothing here to protect me from.”  
“That might be true, but I wouldn’t be working for Lexa if I didn’t take my job every bit as serious anyway.”

Clarke just nodded, she was probably right.

“For the record, I really do like her. And she really likes me. But she _will_ end this if she so much as smells a threat, both to her own persona but especially to me and my family. So please, don’t tell anyone, especially not her even if you think that you know what is going on. It’ll only do more harm than good,” she said, looking Echo straight in the eye.

Echo’s smirk turned into a genuine smile, and she held out her hand for Clarke to take.

“Hey, don’t worry, okay? I might seem like a prick, but I care about her too. And she’s happier now. I won’t do anything, you read me?” she said, squeezing Clarke’s hand before letting go.  
“Besides, were a family at work. And even if you guys aren’t official, your part of that family now. That means I’ve got your back, kiddo,” she continued.

Clarke felt a small portion of grateful relief wash over her. Maybe she didn’t despise Echo as much after all. However, there was one small detail left to address.

“Why do you people keep on calling me kiddo?!”

Echo just threw her head back and laughed, a sharp but hearty laugh filled with warmth. Just as she was going to explain herself with what Clarke expected to be yet another cheeky answer she was interrupted by an almost running Octavia who came up to them with a panicked look on her face.

“Clarke, I’ve been looking all over for you! We need to leave, now,” she barked, grabbing Clarke by the arm and dragging her up from the bar.

Echo immediately shifted from relaxed to alert and was on her feet before Octavia had even started talking.

“ _Jesus O,_ I told you I was going to the bar!” Clarke frowned, trying to pry her arm out of Octavia’s stone grip without any success.  
“What’s going on?” Echo asked, this time with a voice that could cut through stone.  
“Who are you?” Octavia turned to the new face with a suspicious glare.

The Blake was a lot of things, but welcoming to strangers wasn’t exactly one of them. Clarke still remembered how she would take weeks to warm up to new kids at primary school who had been blissfully and unknowingly placed on their softball-team.

“She’s with my father’s security company. She works for Lexa,” Clarke interjected, knowing how much Octavia admired that particular brunette.

Octavia seemed to accept this and nodded once before letting go of Clarke.

“Fine. You need to get her out of here, some unplanned stuff has happened and Raven’s dealing with it, but Clarke really shouldn’t be here.”  
“With all due respect, I’m going to need a bit more to go on,” Echo cut back.

The whole situation was rather suspicious, she'd give Echo that much. What could Raven possibly be dealing with that Clarke wasn’t supposed to know about? Shouldn’t she be helping out instead of fleeing the field? The whole idea of telling Echo to ‘get her out of here’ like it was some kind of emergency was absurd and Clarke turned to her friend with the full intention of telling her off when her eye caught on something.

It was like her insides first froze to ice, then shriveled together and finally died all together. It was all of a sudden hard to breathe, and she heard herself gasp for air before her voice stopped working and her jaw slammed shut. Fear spread from deep in her core and out through every tendon and blood vessel in her body, all the way into her fingertips and toes. Her heart raced and all she could feel was that this was not supposed to happen. She had _fled._ She had _escaped_ this and she was supposed to be _free_ now. She was supposed to be _safe._

Her vision blurred. She didn’t know if it was tears or if she was fainting, but she caught sight of the pure panic in Octavia’s eyes and Raven’s face in the crowd, begging for forgiveness. She closed her eyes, balled her fists together to ground herself before breathing out and looking up. With every last bit of resolution left in her she fixed her eyes on the very stuff of her nightmares.

“Hello, princess.”

His voice felt like a punch to the face. Like a kick to the ribs, like hands choking her against the wall, like the coppery taste of a busted lip. She wanted to scream, or run, but she could do neither.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she stated simply, praying that her voice wouldn’t break.  
“I know, but I kind of outgrew Boston and I was told that Washington is the new New York. Laughable, of course, but here I am. You don’t mind, do you, love?” he said with a snake-like smile.

_A smile that you used to think the most beautiful in the world,_ she thought, but quickly pushed that thought away.

“Don’t you dare call her that,” Octavia hissed at him.

To the brunette’s honour, she had despised him from the beginning. Clarke had vowed to always trust her judgement from now on. But he just ignored her, like he always had done.

Clarke needed to get out. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, stand here and put herself through the verbal sparring and humiliation that came with being in his proximity. It was beyond problematic, him being in Washington, but she would have to worry about that later. Right now she just needed to _get out_.

Pushing past both Echo and Raven she took off toward the exit. She knew he wouldn’t follow, he had done what he came to do: scare her shitless. He had succeeded, and now he would leave her alone to slowly fall back into the darkness that they both knew would engulf her as soon as she came home. She reached the doors in a trance and walked out onto the pavement. A dozen valets stood there along with a couple of cars, ready to take guests home. She mindlessly picked one and headed for the backseat when she was caught up by a running Echo.

“Hey, Clarke! Dr Griffin! Wait!”

Clarke didn’t want to stop, she really didn’t. She just wanted to go home. But if she didn’t, she knew what was going to happen. Echo was going to call Lexa who would throw a worried fit with enough magnitude to level the entire city. So she stopped.

“You forgot you coat,” Echo said, slightly out of breath as she held the garment out.

Clarke looked down on her bare arms for a moment, she hadn’t even registered that she was cold even if the temperature outside was a solid January negative. Smiling to the best of her current abilities, she reached out and grabbed the coat from Echo’s arm.

“Thanks, Echo. I’m going home, it would be great if you could tell my parents,” she said before attempting to get back to the car.

She was immediately cut off by a hand, grabbing her by the shoulder.

“Clarke, please. We both know that I’m going to need more than that. Who was he?”

Clarke bit her lip. She hadn’t said his name since she left him, and even though it was superstitious it was her way of keeping him locked away in her mind. _No use in doing that anymore since he’s here,_ a voice said in the back of her head, but it still felt impossible.

“He’s someone whom I’ve spent a great deal of time trying to get away from. He’s not supposed to be here, and he knows that. I have no idea what he’s doing in town, but I can’t be where he is. I just can’t.”

Echo just nodded and looked down for a moment. She wasn’t born yesterday and she had probably seen some shit, she knew what Clarke was talking about. And she understood that it was a touchy subject, to say the least. After a few seconds she ran her hand through her hair and sighed.

“Okay, go. I’ll tell your parents and your friends, they’re probably in there worrying sick. Do you want me to call Lexa?” she asked.  
“No. I need some time to think, I’ll do it myself if it comes to that.”

“Okay. You do understand that I have to tell her about this though, right? I can give you until briefing tomorrow morning, but that’s it. She’ll kill me for not calling straight away, but I get it, kiddo,” Echo smiled and squeezed her shoulder once more before letting go and opening the door to the backseat for her.

Clarke just nodded and smiled. She got into the car and rode in silence, all the way back home. Her phone was buzzing uncontrollably with texts from Octavia asking her how she was and voicemails from Raven, who undoubtedly blamed herself and wanted to beg for forgiveness. Clarke turned it off. She couldn’t think about that right now. Actually, she couldn’t really think about anything or she was afraid that her head would explode or that she would burst into tears.

The driver dropped her off right outside her front door, and once again she was grateful for not having to walk the extra distance from the pavement. She fumbled with the lock and alarm systems for a moment before she made it inside. When she finally made it to her room she collapsed on her bed and sobbed.

When morning came, Clarke hadn’t slept a beat. Her mother had stormed in after a while, hugged her crying daughter and cried with her while whispering soothing words into her ear and stroking her back. Her father had stood in the door, watching them and clenching his fist. Aspiring politician or not, as any father he probably wanted nothing more than to hunt the man down who had turned his child into this mess.

Abby had slowly coaxed her out of her dress, softly removed her makeup and finally tucked her in. Telling her to come find her as soon as it got too much before walking off with her husband to give Clarke some space. They knew that he had been trouble, but they didn’t know the details. They knew that he was part of why she had left Massachusetts, but they didn’t know that he was the reason. If they had known, they wouldn’t have left her alone in her room right now. Clarke was happy that they didn’t know.

After a while the sobbing had turned into silent tears and finally, they stopped as well. She was left in her dark, silent room with a throbbing pain inside of her. Parts of it was new, but there were fragments that she recognised. The old fear of uncertainty was there. She knew that she was safe inside her own home, but she also knew that she couldn’t stay there forever. He knew where she worked, he knew her friends, she was sure of it. If he wanted to, he would find her. And even if he wouldn’t do anything, she remembered the terrifying sensation of seeing him in the lobby as she walked off her shift or magically appearing in the same bar when she was out with her friends. The feeling of never being alone, always being watched.

Then there was the familiar, nagging doubt. What if she wasn’t strong enough? She had escaped once but it had been a close call. What if she was caught up in this again? She would rather die.

There was also a new sensation, the extreme disappointment. This wasn’t supposed to happen again. He was supposed to stay there, to leave her alone. That had been the terms, the terms that he had agreed on. What could she possibly have done to make her deserve this? Was she really that terrible of a person that she deserved to live in hell even before she had died?

She pondered calling Lexa, even if it was in the middle of the night. Lexa would know what to do, Lexa would keep her safe, Lexa would know how to handle people like him without bending a finger. But something held her back. This would definitely mean trouble for both of them and she knew how much Lexa despised trouble. She wanted to believe that Lexa would just step in and solve her problems, but what if she didn’t? Or what if she did, because the contract demanded it, but broke things off because of how complicated it made everything? Clarke had told her bits and pieces about her past, but no specifics. What if Lexa didn’t want to carry the extra weight? What if she finally understood how weak Clarke really was and decided that she could do better? No, the less Lexa knew the better, she had decided in the darkest hours.

And when morning finally came, when Clarke was getting out of bed to work her shift, that was still the thought ringing in the blonde’s head: _the less people know the better._

She did her best to cover up the obvious signs of crying and lack of sleep and got dressed in bright colours to create an illusion of her usual cheeriness. She made it down to the kitchen right before 7AM and confronted the slightly worried looks of her parents with smiles and comforting words. She was fine, she had just been tired and chocked. They shouldn’t worry, really, she knew what she was doing and yes, she would call if he did anything else.

Marcus bought it, kind off, and her mother finally agreed to give in – for now. She smiled and bid them farewell before walking out of the door into the chill winter air. She instictively looked around to look for any unfamiliar vehicles but came up short. It wasn’t until she was half way to work in the back of Steve’s car that she realized that, instinct or not, that was something she hadn’t done since she came back home. Putting in her AirPods she turned her phone back on for the first time since yesterday. She barely managed to open the Spotify app before the flood of messages almost made her phone freeze.

_Judge-O, 20:37  
_ _Where did u go???_

_20:58  
_ _That Echo girl told us u went home. Please call me_

_21:15  
_ _Clarke, please. Are u ok?_

_21:27  
_ _Spoke to ur parents, their on their way to check up on u. I love u. Please call_

_Gyromaniac, 22:01  
_ _I’ve left like a million messages but ur probably not listening to them. I’m so sorry Clarke, I didn’t know he was coming. I can’t believe my dad. I’m so sorry._

_22:01  
_ _I’m such a fucking idiot. I’m so, so sorry_

_06:47  
_ _How are u? I’m sorry, again. I love u_

_Lexa Woods, 22:03  
_ _Hey, how was the evening? Echo haven’t called so I’m just assuming that things are going well. Miss you xx_

_07:01  
_ _Good morning, everything okay?_

It was 7:30AM. She knew that within the hour Lexa would have gotten the report from yesterday. And even if she trusted Echo to try and deliver it as smooth as possible, Lexa would without a doubt fly through the roof. She debated with herself wheter she should just come clean and tell Lexa herself but decided against it, partly because she actually doubted if that would make things better and partly because she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead she focused on the easier conversations and fired up the group chat.

_Dr. Clarkey, 07:32  
_ _Hey, I’m sorry but I had to turn off my phone for a while. I don’t know how I’m feeling but I’ll get by. Going to work now, talk to u later. I love u too_

_07:32  
_ _Btw, Raven stop apologizing, it’s not ur fault. xoxo_

When Steve dropped her off at the hospital she made her way in as quickly as possible, keeping her head down and an eye on her surroundings. It had been his thing back in the days, to wait in the lobby where no one would question his whereabouts until her shifts ended. Then he would ‘follow her back home’ to his apartment, never to hers, and drive her to work next morning. If she ever took the back door or managed to sneak past him, he would find her. Sometimes she would escape straight back home, where he would bang on her door until the neighbors had a breakdown. Other times she would feel more adventurous and try to meet up with her friends, but he would find her anyway. Sit down with them for a few minutes, then tell her that it was time to go home. And she would always follow.

But he wasn’t there, and if she was being honest she didn’t think that he would be. She figured he wanted her to suffer a bit more in uncertainty, or maybe, maybe he was just done terrorizing her. Maybe his presence at the party yesterday had been a mere coincidence?

_You tell yourself that, Griff. Whatever makes you feel better._

Because Finn Collins was never a coincidence. And she had seen it in his eyes, she had felt it in the way he had talked to her.

She changed into her scrubs and looked herself over one extra time in the mirror. She looked as she always did, which was good. She _had_ to look completely ordinary: she was a doctor and a tired-looking doctor was not a very popular thing. And she would rather not attract any attention from her colleagues either, at least no more than ordinary. Shoving her belongings into her locker, she slammed it shut and walked out of the locker room.

The day dragged on. Thankfully she didn’t get called into surgery or have to deal with anything mentally challenging. Usually, a day like this would bore her, but today she felt her mind racing in a million different directions at once. That might work when you’re diagnosing the tenth person of the day with common flu, but in an OR she would’ve been a sheer hazard. When lunchtime came she felt nothing reassembling hunger. She made her way back to the locker room and dug around in her bag for a bar. It wasn’t enough, but it would do the job.

She looked at her phone, it stared her down from the bottom of her tote bag. She knew that she ought to pick it up and deal with whatever, but she also just wanted to throw it away and escape forever. Unfortunately, that’s not what grown-ups do. Instead, she dutifully pulled it up and lit up the lock screen.

_Lexa Woods, 08:31  
_ _Echo have better been lying straight to my face for the past ten minutes, or I won’t know who to be the most disappointed in._

‘Disappointed’. Lexa was disappointed in her, of course she was. Another strike straight to the gut. They were getting far too common.

_Lexa Woods, 08:37  
_ _So she’s not lying. Who is he, Clarke?_

_09:01  
_ _I’m sorry for acting out, I’m not disappointed. But I really need you to talk to me._

_10:11  
_ _I’m guessing and hoping that you’re at work, but I can’t help you unless you talk to me. And I do want to help._

_11:58  
_ _Call me when you get off for lunch. I’ll take the rest of the day off if you want me to and I can work from home tomorrow. I’ll come and get you. Just let me know, please._

Lexa had sent her five texts this morning alone, and with Lexa-proportions that was a small avalanche. She was offering her help, she was even offering to take time off from work – something that Clarke was pretty sure was almost unheard off. Clarke’s finger hovered over the call button but she couldn’t make it move. Her brain screamed a thousand static words and she couldn’t make sense of it. A million what ifs. She wanted to help her now, sure, but she didn’t even know what she was signing up for.

There was no guarantee that bringing Lexa into it all would even solve the problem. Then there was Lexa being legally bound to her father, if she found out that there was an imminent threat to Clarke, she was probably bound to tell Marcus. That was unthinkable. And Clarke could never ask Lexa to breach a contract, putting herself and her firm in jeopardy, because of her. So instead she locked her phone, threw it back into her bag and put it all behind her for another few hours.

When she finally finished her shift she continued to ignore her phone as she cautiously made it out of the lobby and into the car that waited outside, as always. They rode in their usual silence for a while, before something very unexpected happen: Steve talked to her.

“Excuse me, Doctor Griffin, but Miss Woods asked me to tell you that she would very much appreciate if you checked your phone,” he said with his thick accent.

Clarke was dumb folded for a minute before managing to push out a surprised ‘oh’ and a nod. As she resignedly reached into her pocket she silently thought about how much this man really knew. He had picked her up from Lexa’s apartment, and he had been the one driving her to that date. But it didn't really matter. She felt complete confidence in him keeping that secret. She was more worried about said phone.

_Lexa Woods, 14:11  
_ _Well, your lunch is most definitely over by now. Either your phone isn’t working or you’re ignoring me. I have my suspicions about which one it is, and it has to stop._

_14:42  
_ _Clarke, please. You don’t have to tell me anything but just send me on of those stupid emoji as a life sign._

_15:32  
_ _If I haven’t heard from you before 1900 I’m driving over to your house. I’m not joking. It’s up to you to decide if it’s worth it._

Clarke checked the time in slight panic, 6:32PM. Throwing her head back against the headrest with a groan she realized that she had no choice. The dial tones rang in her ear like a doomsday-clock, one time, two times, three times. Then the line cracked for a moment before she heard that familiar voice. The voice that, no matter what, was home to her.

At first, it felt like having warm water wash away all the dread she had been carrying around all day. But then, the fear of losing her because of what had happened, what had changed, came back and all the warmth turned into even more dread.

_“Clarke? Are you there?”_

Clarke closed her eyes and bit her lip.

“Yeah, I’m here.”  
 _“Thank god. Are you alright?”_

_Was she alright?_ The question seemed so absurd that she almost wanted to laugh. But she couldn’t, like so many other things right now it felt downright impossible.

“Yeah, sure,” she just lied instead.

She could hear Lexa sigh on the other end. She saw the brunette in her mind, how she was sitting behind her desk right now, hand dragging through her hair in the way it always did when she was stressed. How her fingers tapped an intricate rhythm on her desk. How frustrated she felt right now, even if she looked calm.

_“Clarke…”  
_ “No, Lexa. Please don’t. I know that you want to help me but there’s nothing you can do. Just let it go.”

She was being unfair, she knew that. Lexa was just trying to be nice, but she also knew that she had to set down the boundaries now if she was going to do it at all. Then, to her surprise, Lexa laughed. Not a happy laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

_“Let it go? Are you sure you haven’t hit your head or something? I send Echo on what we all think will be a perfectly uneventful job only to find out – the next day, mind me – that nothing, absolutely nothing, has been perfectly uneventful. That the mark, that’s security lingo for your sorry ass, was approached by, and I quote, ‘the creepiest dude ever’ while her best friends told her that she ‘had to get out’. That she walked out on the pavement without even taking her jacket with her, how her friends have been crying, how her parents had rushed home after their daughter after they found out about what had happened. I’m really sorry, Clarke, but I can’t let this go. Because I sent Echo when I should’ve done it myself, because I wasn’t there the only time you really needed me and because I care, Clarke. I fucking care.”_

There was a small pause, long enough for Clarke to process about half of the information and for Lexa to catch her breath. But she wasn’t done yet.

_“And when Echo finally deems it appropriate to tell me, you completely blank me out. I have been losing my mind here, Clarke, there is nothing about a Finn anywhere in any file about you. You won’t tell me shit, so I have no idea what I’m dealing with. And now you’re telling me that there’s nothing I can do? I’m a fixer, Clarke. I help people, I keep people safe, and right now I’m failing at both with the only person I care about. How, do you suggest, do I let this go?”_

Lexa wasn’t crying, not by any means. She talked like she was reading a weather report or the back of a cereal box. But Clarke had never heard such desperateness in her voice before. She was begging her, to talk, to come clean, to tell her what to do, and Clarke could do none of it. All because of that stupid contract. Up until now she had only worried about what a relationship with Lexa would do to her image, what her parents would think, what her friends would think. All that seemed so petty now. This was the real problem with this relationship, and she had been completely blindsided. They both had been, the only difference was that Lexa had no clue about it, yet. So even if Lexa wasn’t crying, Clarke was.

“I’m sorry, Lexa. I’m really sorry, but I just can’t.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks. There was a faint sound of heels tapping against hard floor over the line: the brunette was pacing.

_“I can’t believe this,”_ the brunette laughed coldly again.  
“Do you hate me?” Clarke asked meekly.

She knew that it was a stupid, weak ass, desperate question, but she needed to her Lexa answer it.

_“No, Clarke, of course I don’t. Honestly, I don’t know if I could. But you’re putting me through hell right now.”  
_ “If I call you, will you come get me?”

Another stupid question, one that was sure to worry Lexa even more, but yet another answer she needed to hear.

_“Yeah, sure, but why do you ask that? If you think that you’re in danger I need you to tell me, Clarke.”  
_ “I will. I miss you.”  
 _“And I miss you. Are you sure you shouldn’t sleep here tonight? I can still take tomorrow off.”  
_ “I’m sure. I need to get back to my mom or she will worry herself sick,” Clarke tried to joke.  
 _“So will I,”_ was the only response she got back, all humour completely lost on the brunette.

The conversation was over, they were going to hang up now. For the first time and for a fraction of a second she wanted to tell her that she loved her, and that realization hit her like a truck. When did that happen? Or maybe it was just a side product of the emotional turmoil inside of her? Either way, now wasn't the time.

“Goodnight Lexa. I care about you too, you know,” she said instead.  
 _“Goodnight Clarke. Be safe.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per usual, thanks for the comments and the feedback, they make my day! I did an estimate of how many chapters I figure this will turn out to be (muuuuch longer than I first thought, but what's a girl to do?) and there's just about a third left. 
> 
> Stay safe! xx


	13. Come get me if you need me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, how y'all doing? I'm still excruciatingly restless, but I've doubled my work-out routines to keep myself from climbing the walls (or posting this story all at once because regardless of what you guys say, that wouldn't be any fun).
> 
> Also, this is angsty. Like, really angsty. Put on some good music and bite into it!

The night passed without further turmoil. The next day followed suit. One day turned into two, then into three and finally a whole week had passed since ‘the incident’, as she had retorted to calling in her mind. Everything seemed grey and heavy. Like she was living in a bad Batman-movie. Walking was hard, thinking was hard, breathing was hard. She was in this constant state of diffuse terror and it was tearing on her.

Her life was held together by fragile strings, but at least it wasn’t falling apart, not yet. She slept and worked, ate only when necessary and because she knew that she had to. Communications with her loved ones was scarce. Raven was still apologizing compulsively, Octavia a little too overbearing. She couldn’t stand facing her mother for more than a few minutes at a time in fear of being questioned.

And then there was Lexa. The brunette tried her best to give her space, she could tell. Once a day she would ask her if she was okay, and every time Clarke would reply with a ‘sure’. They were both hypocrites. It wasn’t the question that Lexa _really_ wanted to ask, and it wasn’t the reply that Clarke _really_ wanted to give either. Because all Clarke wanted to do was to call Lexa, have her pick her up and then drive. Drive far away from DC, maybe south to Miami. Or west to Chicago. Or north, to Maine, or maybe even cross over into Canada?

But that was nothing but a fantasy, a daydream that she didn’t have time for right now. Her lunch was almost over and she had to force the last piece of her sandwich down her dry throat. She was seated at a remote table in the cafeteria, far enough away for none of her co-workers to approach her. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Lexa had already texted her today, so it was probably Raven, again.

 _Unknown sender, 13:07  
_ _Hello princess_

Bile rose in her throat as her pulse once again started to roll like thunder. _He had her number._ He was stepping up his game, and she knew the way he played by heart. He was letting her know that he had tabs on her. That he knew things. Exactly what he knew was unclear, but neither did it matter. All that mattered was that the encounter at Raven’s fathers party hadn’t been a chance one.

Nervously tapping her finger against the table she thought about what to do next. What was _he_ going to do next? Put pressure on her, scare her, maybe even stalk her were three possible courses of action. Physically hurt her or assault her wasn’t very probable, that wasn’t the way he did things. Not in the beginning, at least. He was pissed at her for leaving, she knew that, but some deranged part of him probably enjoyed it. The chance to indulge in a twisted quest to ‘win’ her back.

The screen stared up at her with an eerie glow. Ghosting him would probably not make it better, but it wouldn’t make it worse either and she didn’t have the energy to act or even _think_. Maybe she should tell someone else? Her parents were out of the question, per obvious reasons. She didn’t want to alarm her friends over something that could turn out to be nothing. Lexa? Well, she could _always_ call Lexa, but she was still scared of the consequences. Let him have his fun, she could take it, she thought. At least she hoped that she could. She pushed her phone back in her pocket with a silent promise to not do anything before things turned completely south.

They didn’t. Not at the beginning at least. When she left the hospital that night she looked around her like a scared animal, but she was alone. She crossed the distance between the pavement and her front door in a heartbeat. She gave her mother a quick hug and went straight to bed. If she had any luck, sleep would relieve her of the troubles of consciousness.

When she awoke the next morning she still felt exhausted. She turned over and picked up her phone. One message from Lexa, two from Raven and then, again:

 _Unknown sender, 06:54  
_ _Good morning princess. Heard that the coffee at the hospital is good, you should treat yourself to a cup to get rid of those bags under your eyes._

Safe to say, Clarke stayed away from the coffee machines that day. Actually she steered clear from everywhere she didn’t have to be and spent most of her breaks in the locker room. The thing about the coffee could’ve just been a rumour, or a wild guess. It seemed unlikely that he had tasted it himself, if he had he had known just how terrible it was. But it was sending a clear message. A bit more concerning was the appearance-comment. She looked terrible, that was very true, but she hadn’t the last time he had seen her. It was a product of constant fear and lack of sleep and had only gotten really noticeable in the last few days. So, either he was, once again, making an educated guess – or he had found her.

Apart from the apparent stalker-signs, she still wasn’t worried about him actually laying hands on her. He wasn't an idiot, a brute without brains. He was smart, he knew better than to stick a fist to her face and risk leaving a mark, he knew better than to expose himself like that. He was all about the hidden trauma, the secrecy and reticence. She _was_ worried about his words. What would he say to her? What web of lies would he try and weave her into, and would she fall for it? She considered herself a pretty smart girl, but he had succeeded before in the very worst of ways. The way in which you don’t even realize that you’ve dipped your toe before you're in head deep.

She knew that she should do something by now. Things _had_ made a turn for the worse. The texts started to come more frequently. Every time she took a break there were more of them, with varying content and with different time intervals, but they kept on coming.

 _Unknown sender, 08:50  
_ _Lovely DC weather today. Fancy a walk in the park? Heard there’s a nice one close by._

 _Unknown sender, 11:13  
_ _Just passed an art gallery on 17 th, reminded me of you._

 _Unknown sender, 12:10  
_ _Hey princess, how was lunch?_

 _Unknown sender, 15:24  
_ _Prince playing on the radio. It’s funny how you like him so much._

 _Unknown sender, 17:07  
_ _That fancy car of yours picking you up soon?_

Clarke read the last message as she was changing out of her scrubs. She banged her fist against the metal locker, jump scaring poor Katie who was just getting ready for the night shift. Held up a hand to apologize as she felt tears start to burn behind her eyelids. _Why_ was this happening? _How_ could this be happening? She asked herself that question a million times a day right now. But it was sure as hell justified. She bit her lip and tried to control her breathing. Tried to keep the trembling anxiety at bay. She had her methods, even if she hadn’t been forced to use them in a while. Even breaths, in the shape of a square, fist opening and closing with the beat.

Once the worst of it was over, she unlocked the damned phone and hit the call button. One tone, two tones, three…

 _“Hello?”  
_“Hey, it’s me. Are you busy?” she asked resignedly as a wall of noise hit her through the phone.  
_“Hey, Clarke, just give me a minute to find somewhere quiet,”_ Lexa’s clear voice cut through.

Clarke could hear her walking through what seemed to be a big crowd of people who were talking loudly. If she really tried to listen, there was the faint sound of music in the background, or maybe a movie of some sort?

 _“Sorry to keep you waiting. Are you okay?”_ Lexa asked once the noise had settled.

Clarke once again balled her fist and closed her eyes. Why did she have to be at a stupid event right now? This was hard enough to do without feeling like she was pulling the brunette away from something important. _But she wants you to call, and it’s not like she’s ever not doing something important,_ a voice in her head pointed out.

“I think that I might need your help. Things are getting slightly out of hand,” she confessed.  
_“Out of hand how?”  
_“He’s been blowing up my phone all day. He knows where I am, and he knows I’m getting off my shift and what the car looks like and I have no idea how he’s found out. But he knows,” she almost rambled in frustration.

The line went quiet for a moment before Lexa spoke up again, and Clarke was almost afraid that she had hung up on her and gone to find someone to beat up.

 _“You know the drill. Stay put, I won’t be long,”_ she finally said.  
“Just send someone else to drive me home, or just tell me what to do. You don’t have to come.”

She knew what that sounded like. She should have phrased that differently, but Lexa picked it up immediately.

 _“If you don’t want me there just say so, Clarke. It’s okay,”_ she cut, not even bothering to hide the sharpness in that beautiful voice.  
“You _know_ that I do. But I can hear that you’re busy somewhere and I don’t want to impose, I just phrased it in a bad way.”  
_“The best way to keep yourself from causing me any problems is to stay safe. I’ll call you when I’m there.”_

Then she hung up and Clarke was left waiting. She alternated between pacing and anxiously sitting down on the bench, bouncing her knee. She played with a thread on her ripped, black jeans and drew the hood of her sweatshirt up over her head. She didn’t want to put her AirPods in though, she needed to be one hundred percent aware of her surrounding to keep safe. What if he was right outside? Or maybe he was just bluffing again, maybe he wasn’t even in DC? All the things he had talked about today could easily be found on google maps. But why would he do that? _Why is he doing any of this?_

She knew that as soon as Lexa got here it would all be okay. But just waiting made everything feel twice as bad as it had before. And she had no clue where Lexa had been when she had called. She could be on the other side of town, Arlington, Bethesda, Fairfax? It could take her over an hour. But she would’ve said something if that had been the case, right? Clarke sat and stood, walked and jumped and tried to shake the stress from her system for just about thirty minutes before her phone rang again.

 _“Hey, sorry it took me so long. Traffic’s a bitch and certainly not mine. Is it enough if I wait in the lobby our should I come get you?”  
_“Could you walk past the front desk and wait by the big swing doors you walked through last time you were here? It should be fine, but he _has_ got a history of hanging around in entrance halls,” Clarke said as she pulled her bag onto her shoulder.  
_“Jesus Christ, Clarke. But sure, I’ll be standing right there,”_ came a muttered response.

It was a good sign given her history, right? That her new partner was everything the old one was not and that said partner despised him before she even knew who he was? Clarke was going to believe that it was.

When she walked out of the big swing doors she was met by a tense-looking Lexa, leaning against a wall. For a millisecond Clarke forgot all about her problems. In five inch heels, a jet black sequin dress slipping out under a black coat and make up to die for, Lexa looked pretty much like all of Clarke’s good dreams embodied. And when Lexa raised a questioning eyebrow at her she wanted to break down, throw herself in those strong arms and cry. She wanted to kiss those lips, that face, those hands, and she would pay good money to just make everyone around them go away just so that she could. She almost decided not to give a crap and do it anyway. But then reality caught up with her and she stopped dead in her tracks.

“You look stunning,” was all she managed to croak out as her head borderline overloaded.

Lexa almost-smiled before pushing herself off the wall and taking the lead toward the exit.

“And you look like shit. Is he here?”

Clarke looked around a few times before following the brunette.

“No. Not where I can see him, at least,” Clarke said.  
“When was the last time he texted you?”  
“Uhm, forty-five minutes ago maybe?”

Lexa gave her a disdainful glare over her shoulder. Clarke had some trouble deciphering it, she could be mad because of the vague answer, or because Clarke hadn’t called her sooner, or simply over something else that Clarke just hadn’t thought about yet.

“Stay close. Let me know if you see anything, but be discrete.”

Clarke nodded before she realized that the brunette couldn’t see that, or maybe she could? She was crazy perceptive about what was going on behind her back after all. Instead she just walked as close to her as possible, following her out into the cold night air. They rounded a corner to where Lexa’s familiar BMW was parked on a spot that Clarke was fairly sure wasn’t allowed to park on. It chirped happily as always when Lexa unlocked it and they got in, sitting in silence for a moment before Lexa fired up the engine and stepped on the gas pedal.

“Where to?” she asked as they were exiting hospital grounds.  
“Huh?”

‘Huh’ as in what were her options? Was this when she said Miami or Chicago or Maine or even Canada? Or was Lexa asking for directions? Probably neither, because Lexa was rolling her eyes again.

“Your place or mine?” she clarified like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And maybe it was, but Clarke hadn’t even considered it. She wanted to say Lexa’s, of course, but she had kind of been an ass these few days. And it would make not telling her about him a lot harder.

“I mean, you’ve obviously been working so maybe your tired, or maybe…”  
“I wouldn’t have asked if it hadn’t been an option, Clarke. Just make a choice,” Lexa cut her off, keeping her eyes trained on the road.

She was quiet for another moment before giving her answer, even if the decision was already made.

“Yours, please.”

She made it sound like she was begging, and maybe that was a bit pathetic. But she _was_. Her insides were screaming for Lexa to fix this. To keep her safe. Lexa just nodded and took a left. The drive was silent, there was a tension between them that hadn’t been there the last time, but was that really so strange? As the streetlights made the insides of the car pulsate in warm, soft, light she tentatively reached out for the hand laying on its usual spot on the gear stick. She intertwined their fingers, slowly, as if she was waiting for Lexa to pull away. It took a few moments, but the brunette’s slender fingers soon wrapped back around her own.

With her free hand she reached into her pocket to pull out her phone. She needed to text her mother that she would be sleeping away tonight to keep the woman from further worry. Maybe it would even make her feel a bit calmer to see that Clarke had stepped out of her self-imposed solitary confinement. The reasons behind it didn’t have to be brought into light.

 _Unknown sender, 18:03  
_ _You always did have extraordinarily good-looking friends. This one was no exception. What’s her name?_

As she read, her fist instinctively closed harder around Lexa’s. The brunette did notice, judging by the frown on her face as she turned to look over at her. Clarke pretended that she didn’t notice, she was too busy to swallow down the nausea she felt rising up in her throat. Lexa didn’t need protecting, she knew that. And as far as Finn was concerned, they were only friends. But that he had the _audacity_ to even look at _her_ girl made her want to punch someone. Scum like him wasn’t allowed to be within a ten feet radius, even less to look at, touch or even think about people like Lexa. Everything that was good about her was bad about him. She was like a white canvas or a DNA-sample that mustn’t be stained or contaminated.

“What did he write?” a stern voice asked from her left.  
“Nothing important,” Clarke shrugged it off, trying her best not to let the anger seep through her voice.  
“Judging by the fact that you’re quite effectively crushing my hand I would argue against that,” Lexa said offhandedly, causing Clarke to release her hand as if she had been burnt.  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she mumbled.

Lexa just nodded and put both hands on the steering wheel. Clarke immediately missed the feeling of skin against skin but knew better than to try and pry back the lost hand. Lexa wanted her to talk, to tell her about things that she wasn’t ready for. Instead they were once again stuck with the eerie tension in the air, close yet miles apart. Soon they made it into Lexa’s garage, and Lexa didn’t slack as she killed the engine and immediately opened the door to get out. Clarke sighed but followed compliantly.

None of Lexa’s behaviour was strange, she always acted briskly and rushed, but it was the way she held herself. The way she got out of her way _not_ to make physical contact or to not be caught staring, even though Clarke could feel that she was as they walked toward the elevator.

The ride up through the building was almost as excruciating as it had been after their date, but in the completely opposite way. Clarke was starting to question whether this had been a good idea. Maybe it would’ve been just easier if she had taken her chances and gone straight home. _Or maybe you should just ease her out of her misery and talk?_

When they stepped into the familiar apartment, Clarke knew that she had to do something. When Lexa turned slightly toward her to hang up her coat, she slid her arm around the brunette’s waist and kissed her. The kiss started out rather aloof, but Clarke refused to give up. Something had to be done, besides, she had missed this _way_ too much. She pushed them back a little, and when she was met with no resistance she pushed back a bit more until Lexa’s back hit the wardrobes behind her. Clarke used her newfound leverage to deepen the kiss even more and before she knew it, they were both moving against each other on their bodies own accord. Lexa’s hand tangled in Clarke’s short locks while Clarke allowed hers to wander down the brunette’s lean body.

As her breath grew heavy she sloppily started kissing down Lexa’s cheekbones, her chin, her neck and finally her collarbones (thank god for a low cut and wide neckline). Lexa threw her head back, eyes closed and lungs heaving air. Her hands slid from Clarke’s waist to once again settling with one on her neck and one in her hair, holding her in place.

But just as Clarke thought that the night was going pretty good after all, Lexa pushed her back and took a step away. Still breathing heavily and supporting herself with one hand against the wardrobe wall, Clarke was left rolling her eyes and groaning in frustration as Lexa gathered herself.

“We’re not going there tonight. I’m sorry, but I’m not having sex with you over some pent-up frustration. That’s not what you need right now,” she said after a while, looking anywhere but at the blonde.  
“I thought we established long ago that you don’t get to decide what I need,” Clarke scowled back.

“This is different. I’m not saying this because of some self-induced martyrdom. I’m saying it because we both know that the reason you pressed me up against a wall just now wasn’t because you got super turned on. And we both know that the solution to the problem that you’re trying to fix isn’t sex. I’m going to get a shower, I’ll whip up some food for you when I’m done.”

“Come get me if you need me,” she said, kissing her cheek gently before walking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an unusually short one, but it kinda had to be this way to add up. Next one will be longer, and hopefully up soon to compensate!
> 
> Thanks for the comments, you're all good eggs and I really appreciate it. Stay safe xx


	14. Better? Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told y'all it would be up soon! This is (a little) less angsty, a bit fluffy and a bit of a break.

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table as she stripped out of her dress. Black, sequined fabric pooled around her feet and for once she didn’t bother picking it up. An untidy home felt like a more accurate representation of her mind.

As the scalding water melted her skin, leaving it red and sore, she leaned back against the tiled wall. She wanted to stay in her shower forever, never having to go back out and face the world again. _She had failed._ Clarke was hiding out in her apartment because of some deranged ex-boyfriend slash stalker and Lexa couldn’t keep her safe. Part of the blame was definitely on Clarke for being an ass and refusing to tell her _anything of value_ about him, but she wasn’t exactly the one to talk.

Besides, that shouldn’t have been an issue. Lexa should be making calls, upping security, involving more people, calling Marcus Kane and ask him to come into the office for a revision of the contract. To add in extra paragraphs about family protection. But she wasn’t doing any of those things. Why? Because she was afraid of crossing Clarke.

It was every bit as ridiculous as it sounded. She, Lexa _goddamn_ Woods, was _afraid_ to cross someone for their _own protection._ This was exactly what she had been afraid off. That the blonde would start to mean too much to her, enough to start impacting her decisions. _Love is weakness,_ the familiar voice said in her head.

“I know,” she whispered back.

It had happened before, she had been this vulnerable before. It had ended in total disaster. That couldn’t happen again, or it would be the end of her. A few weeks ago the solution would have been to walk back into the living room and throw the blonde out, tell her that whatever was going on was wrong and dangerous and that it had to stop. But it was all too late for that now, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to follow through. 

Best case scenario, she would keep it together long enough for Clarke to barely make it onto the sidewalk before she would run after her, begging her to come back. She couldn’t really make sense of how she was feeling, but she was scared and very frustrated with hints of a nervous breakdown. She wanted to scream, or maybe vomit.

Instead she turned off the water and got out of the shower, drying herself up and not giving two craps about lotions or oiling herself in. She had bigger problems than dry skin. She walked into her closet, reaching for a pair of sweats and a hoodie but changing her mind. That was for sleep-in mornings and late-night movies, not for tense, awkward silence-offs. Instead she pulled on a pair of skinny jeans and a see-through blouse.

Her hair was still wet and her face free from make-up, which made the outfit seem a bit stand offish, but it would have to do. When she walked back into the apartment she saw Clarke sitting on the armrest of the sofa, for once not scrolling on her phone but instead fidgeting away on the hem of her shirt.

“Is pasta okay?” she asked calmly, masking her inner turmoil behind a very well-practised façade.

Clarke looked up like a deer in headlights, she had obviously not been paying attention.

“Yeah, sure, whatever’s fine,” she mumbled, smiling unconvincingly.

Lexa started rummaging around in the kitchen, slicing up some veggies and digging out a piece of salmon from the fridge. She had a plan (as always) and it was a bitch one: she was going to wait the blonde out. Clarke was angsty and stressed and probably wanted Lexa to make stupid small talk more than anything else, but that wouldn’t get them anywhere.

So, Lexa would keep her mouth shut, focus on the food and wait for the blonde to break under pressure. It was risky and probably not the best course of action but the only one she could come up with at the moment, and she promised herself that she would be the best girlfriend ever once Clarke gave her something to work with.

_Wait, girlfriend?_

As the salmon was frying with some garlic and herbs and the smell of food spread through the air, she felt more than heard Clarke sneaking up a few feet behind her. She continued to pointlessly stir around in the pan as she waited for _something_ to happen. It finally did, almost whispered from unsure lips.

“Are you mad at me?”

Lexa almost rolled her eyes. This was so typically Clarke, to always assume that it was her fault. Especially in situations where the fault was anyone’s but hers. _It’s his fault for being a creep, and my fault for not being good enough,_ she thought.

“No, Clarke. I’m worried and frustrated, but not mad,” she sighed instead.  
“I’m sorry, I really hate that you are dragged into all this.”

There it was again. Every time Clarke said that she would rather have her out of this, it hurt like a bullet. Biting her cheek, she forced her face and body to remain neutral.

“That much I’ve gathered,” she said with bile on her tongue.

Reaching into one of the cupboards she found some linguini to put into the now boiling water. She reached into her pocket to set a timer on her phone and turned to the kitchen island behind her to find something to chop up.

“If you’re not mad at me, could you at least look at me?”

Lexa froze. She was working really hard to keep her body language in cheque, but she knew that her eyes spoke all kinds of truth. She also knew that Clarke would read them like a book, just as she had since day one.

“You haven’t looked me in the eyes once today. Don’t tell me things are okay when you can’t even stand doing that,” Clarke continued.

Her voice was stronger now, surer. Maybe it was a way of keeping herself brave, maybe she knew that she was hitting one of Lexa’s soft spots (that were growing in numbers by the minute). But the tables were turning in a very uncomfortable direction, so Lexa did as she was told. She looked up and stared Clarke square in the eye, a blank expression on her face but a storm in her eyes.

“I didn’t tell you things were okay. I said that I was worried and frustrated. I’m also scared, clueless, desperate, scared and slightly nauseous. Also, did I mention worried? But sure, I’ll look at you, do you like what you see?” she deadpanned.

At first, the only reaction she got from Clarke was teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. But even if she was reigning in her body language as much as Lexa was, the closed fist at her side gave her away.

“I do,” Clarke answered quietly after a minute.

Lexa just snorted and went back to chopping tomatoes. This was quickly turning into their first real fight, which was unfortunate. She didn’t need this right now, and Clarke – poor Clarke – needed it even less. She just couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t pretend like things were fine.

“I see the pain, the worry, the frustration, but I still worship every part and every feeling that makes up _you._ I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that I can’t do more to make things easier, but I really am trying to think about both of us right now. The less you know, the better.”

Lexa snapped, making the last cut with such force that the knife stuck in the wooden cutting board.

“ _Better,_ really? I’m supposed to protect you, Clarke. And don’t give me that look, I _am._ Besides the obvious fact of me caring, I’ve signed _contracts_ to protect you and you’re making that super fucking hard. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go full Miami Vice on you? Calling your parents, friends and their grandmother to find out every single damned thing about this ‘ _Finn_ ’-dude before I end his sorry ass. I don’t know what you could possibly tell me that would make this _worse_ ,” she said through gritted teeth, trying very hard not to raise her voice but only making it half-way.

She felt a pulsing sensation in her hand, looking down only to find blood seeping out of a cut and down onto the floor. She must have chopped that last tomato a bit to vigorously. She could feel her heart pound in her chest and her breath trembling, she barely (like, never) lost her temper like this.

“I’m sorry about the language. It looks like I’ve got some patching up to do, be a dear and mind the stove until I get back,” she nodded down to her hand, leaving a slightly shell-shocked Clarke behind as she beelined for the bathroom.

She winced as she poured disinfectant into the not-too-deep but very bleedy wound in the middle of her hand. _How does one even manage to cut themselves there?_ she quietly wondered. As she was dabbing the last cotton-ball on the bloody skin she once again felt a presence behind her. She sighed. She was really sorry about her outburst and she was going to apologize profusely, but she had hoped for a moment longer to herself, just to get her wits back together.

“I’m a doctor, you know. I should take a look at that,” the blonde said, crossing the threshold into the bathroom and holding out her hand.

Lexa just rolled her eyes, but resistance was futile, as they said. She placed her already properly cleaned palm into Clarke’s open grasp and said nothing as Clarke cleaned it out again just for good measure. She closed her eyes and walled out the pain as Clarke bandaged her up and released a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding when soft lips grazed over her knuckles. Was this always how things were going to end? Would every fight be vanquished with Clarke kissing all her anger away? Her track record would be absolutely terrible, but somehow, she didn’t really mind.

“Better?” the blonde whispered.

Lexa opened her eyes and let them linger on sky blue ones.

“Better.”

Clarke wanted to kiss her, she could see it in her eyes, but she patiently waited for Lexa to make the first call. They had once again somehow ended up impossibly close, and all it took was for Lexa to slightly angle her face and lean in. But instead of those lips, she tapped into all her resilience and placed a kiss on the blonde’s forehead instead. If Clarke was disappointed, she didn’t let it show.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you, but I can’t do this, Clarke. I’m going to end up killing somebody in a worry-induced fit of rage,” she mumbled into the other woman’s hairline.  
“Please don’t make me,” Clarke whispered back, voice almost faltering.  
“You don’t have to tell me what happened, I only need to ask a few questions. Just to keep you safe. Do you trust me to do that, keep you safe?”

She leaned back to get a look at the blonde’s face. This time it was Clarke who had her eyes closed.

“You don’t get it, do you? It’s got nothing to do with you. I trust you to do anything, Lex. But you’re bound by a contract, and whatever I tell you you’re probably bound to tell my father,” Clarke said desperately, shaking her head.

 _That’s what this was about._ Clarke had yet to tell her parents. If she told Lexa anything that they didn’t know and that could jeopardize her safety, Lexa could be bound to tell them everything. Clarke wasn’t keeping her in the dark for her own safety or sanity, neither for Lexa’s, but for the sake of the campaign. That was a relief in a way, but it also made _everything_ much harder.

“Well, that is certainly a bummer,” Lexa scowled.

Clarke almost chuckled for a moment before once again looking down on her feet. Lexa slipped her good hand under the blonde’s chin and tilted her head back up.

“You do realize that you could’ve just said that days ago and spared us both from all of this?” she asked softly, still feeling upset but a lot less confused.  
“But what if you would’ve pushed it out of me anyways? Or just decided that it’s too much trouble and walked away, telling Marcus because it’s your job to do so and left me here to pick up the pieces on my own?”

Lexa could nothing but raise her eyebrows.

“I’m obviously doing something very wrong if that’s what you think of me,” she said, sliding her hands down to grasp Clarke’s waist.  
“No, you’re perfect. I guess I’m just used to people screwing me over,” Clarke whispered before leaning in and kissing her softly on the lips.

Lexa allowed it to happen and kissed back for a minute or two, wrapping her arms more securely around Clarke’s waist. Thinking that maybe this was the best protection she could offer for now, and that she was going to do it well. But as soon as it was getting heated, she leaned back and broke it off.

“Just because I’ve stopped acting like a pissed off bitch that doesn’t mean that you’re getting off tonight, hot stuff.”

Clarke just smiled and kissed Lexa’s lips languidly (who tried her best not to kiss back).

“Are you sure? This is our first real shot at some real good make up-sex,” Clarke mused into the kiss, allowing her hands to sneak in under Lexa’s blouse and up her bare back.

Lexa threw her hands in the air and tried her best to stay rigid as Clarke kept on enjoying herself a little bit _too_ much.

“I promise to pick a fight with you again as soon as this is all under control, and then we can have uselessly labelled sex until the break of dawn. But there’s food on the stove - that you’re supposed to be watching, mind you - so your perverted mind will have to wait.”

Clarke groaned against Lexa’s collarbone before she started to untangle herself (but not until she had given her one more kiss for good measure). Lexa just smirked and walked out of the bathroom with Clarke in tow.

“You’re actually pretty scary when you’re mad. I’ll settle for just ordinary sex if that’s okay,” Clarke teased behind her back.  
“Absolutely. And I’m sorry about that. It was the first time I lost control in a long while, I’ll try to not let it happen again.”

“It’s fine, I get it. However scary it was, today was also the first time I heard you curse out loud. I dare say that ‘fucking’ sounds even sexier when it’s you saying it.”  
“Even when it’s in the same sentence as your parents?”

That only earned her a groan and a slap to the arm. When they made it to the kitchen, the pasta had gone cold and the salmon was burnt. Lexa sighed and threw it into the bin without further ado, the pasta she made a mental note to put away in Tupperwares.

“I hope you're proud of how you’ve contributed to this country’s obnoxiously high levels of food waste, Clarke Griffin,” she scowled playfully at the blonde who immediately looked offended.  
“You were _injured_ , I had to go and make sure that you would survive,” she defended herself.

Lexa just smiled before patting on the countertop for Clarke to take a seat. The blonde happily obliged and Lexa stepped into the space between her legs, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Thank you for saving me. I still need to feed you though, do you want to order in?” she asked.

The blonde’s face took on a devilish grin before placing her hands on Lexa’s shoulders.

“Can we order pizza?”

Lexa frowned, she had been thinking more in style of a salad, or sushi, or anything _but_ the carb- and calorie hazard that was what Clarke probably considered pizza. The blonde immediately caught onto her train of thought. She slid off the countertop and wrapped her legs around Lexa’s midriff, clinging onto her like a koala and smothering her face with kisses.

“ _Pleeeeeease?_ I know this great place, they make the best pizza in the world. I even know the owner, he’ll have them delivered in no time. Please, babe?”

Lexa hated herself for this, but if she hadn’t already caved before, the ‘babe’ certainly did the trick. Reaching up to kiss the blonde again she afforded a smile.

“Okay, go ahead and order then,” she said, preparing to let the blonde down.

Clarke just squealed with happiness and jumped down on the floor before biting her lip.

“Uhm, Lex, could I borrow your phone? I’m trying not to look at mine,” she said tentatively.

Lexa wanted to frown but restrained herself, instead she passed over her cell with what she hoped was a passable smile.

“By the way, have I told you how hot it is that you can just carry me around like that?” she said with that devilish grin back on display.

Lexa just snorted and walked off to find her laptop.

“You’re still not getting laid, Clarke. Now order us some damn food, I’m starving!”

Half an hour later, Lexa was lying down on her sofa scrolling through the contract. She understood Clarke’s worries but she wanted to be sure that they were justified before they moved on from here. Being morally obliged to tell Marcus Kane about his daughter’s problems was one thing, breaching contract if she didn’t was another.

The moral part of the story she could work with. She would try and lob for Clarke telling her parents regardless, in due time and when she was ready, and she could always pass Clarke confiding in her as a reason for not telling them straight away herself. If she was breaching the contract however, she would have to take into consideration the severe impact that could possibly have on her reputation as well as the firm, its employees and Marcus’ campaign. A risk she could not possibly take. Finding the part she was looking for, she read it thrice to be sure before slamming her laptop back shut.

“What are you working on?” Clarke asked, sauntering over after taking a well needed shower.

She was dressed in the same oversized sweatshirt and track shorts she had worn last time and spread herself on top Lexa, resting her head on her chest.

“Nothing, I was just going over a few files,” Lexa said offhandedly.

They were going to talk about it, but it would have to wait until after dinner.

“Cool,” Clarke said, probably not even listening as Lexa could feel shuffle around a bit.  
“How is it even possible? Even when I’m laying in this angle there is not a single trace of a double chin on you. Do you _know_ what fat is, Lex?”

Lexa, feeling very scrutinized at the moment, shuffled back against the armrest so that she was half-sitting instead.

“Please, Clarke. There’s plenty of fat on my body, there might not be any _excess_ but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” she scowled and pulled the blonde up so that she was straddling her lap instead of awkwardly lying in an uncomfortable position.

“Whatever. Good thing I’m not body conscious, this relationship would’ve been the end of me.”  
“Relationship, huh?”

The question had kind off slipped out of her before she had time to think twice. She thought that she would feel terrified waiting for an answer but surprised herself by just calmly smirking up at the blonde instead. And the blonde, well, she just smiled back.

“I guess? I mean it is _a_ relationship, and it’s more than _any_ relationship. We’ve already established that we want for this to work a long time ago and I would be very sad to see you with someone else. So yeah, I don’t know exactly what we are, but we’re definitely _something_ ,” Clarke said, blue eyes smiling down questioningly.

Lexa was just about to reply when there was a sound at the door. Every rational part of her knew that it was the pizza guy, but the hyped-up marine-part was on her feet like lightning. Clarke, once again having been thrown to the side like a ragdoll, rolled her eyes and reached out to soothingly take Lexa’s hand.

“Okay, so the tossing around has got to stop. I do like it a little rough, but _not_ like that…”

Lexa just shot her a very un-humored glare.

“… it’s just Monty’s guy. I’ll go and get it,” she said, sitting back up and getting to her feet.

Shaking her head, Lexa pushed her back again and walked toward the door.

“You’re not answering any doors when there’s a crazy stalker out there looking for you,” she clarified, and Clarke had the decency to stay put.

There was no need to worry though, as it turned out to be a lanky-looking kid with two boxes in his hand. He was nice and polite throughout the whole ordeal, but it wasn’t until he nervously raised his eyebrows expectantly that she realized that she was supposed to pay him.

Reaching into her purse that hung next to the door she pulled out the first bill she could find. It turned out to be 100$, and the lanky kid just gawked at her before gratefully shoving it into his pocket and thanking her ten times over. Lexa just faked a smile and suppressed the urge to push him back into the elevator.

“Bye, Jasper!” Clarke called out as he disappeared behind metal doors.

She smiled like a child on Christmas when Lexa carried over two suspiciously heavy boxes to the sofa area. When Lexa put them down on the coffee table she sat down on the floor in front of it, peeked inside one of them and motioned for Lexa to sit down next to her. Clarke handed her the box she hadn’t peeked into and if Lexa had been wondering why they had to sit on the floor she wasn’t after she’d looked inside.

Inside was the greatest monstrosity Lexa had ever seen. Dough, pizza sauce and mozzarella – so far so good. But _then:_ pepperoni, bacon, something that looked like chicken, sundried tomatoes, absurd amounts of barbecue sauce and _grease._ Lexa felt her jaw slack as she tried to fathom how she would even get one bite down without throwing up.

Across from her, the blonde was losing her composure. By the time Lexa looked up to ask what the fuck was going on, Clarke was fighting so hard to keep the laughter in that she was crying. This only put Lexa into even deeper despair.

“What _is_ this?” she asked in utter disbelief.

Clarke was now letting it all out, bending herself over double as her raspy laugh filled the apartment.

“Clarke Griffin! I trusted you to order and this is what I end up with?”  
“You have to try it, it’s… it’s great,” Clarke managed to wheeze out in between bursts of laughter.  
“It’s a _heart attack_ embodied, Clarke. But fine, I’ll try a piece and then you’ll have to deal with my trust issues from this day forward,” Lexa growled.

Clarke, who had managed to get herself together, just waved her hand dismissively.

“Nah, we’re in an undefined relationship, remember? That means you trust me.”  
“First of all, I never got the chance to agree. Second of all, that’s most definitely _not_ what it means. Now pray for me,” Lexa said as she frowned down on her pizza.

Picking one of the pieces up she resisted the urge to dry heave as the grease and melted cheese almost dripped off the heavy slice. Looking back up on the blonde to see if there was any other way out of this, she was met with raised eyebrows and a silent dare. Instead she closed her eyes and dug in.

She hadn’t had pizza in ages. The saltiness and strong flavours of it all hit her hard and she waited patiently for an urge to get it back out. But the urge never came, and instead she realized that Clarke hadn’t been lying, it _was_ good. Still way to heavy and un-appetizing for her taste, but good nevertheless. Cautiously, and still with her eyes closed, she took another bite. And then one more, until the whole slice was finished. When she looked back up Clarke was smiling victoriously and nibbling away on her own slice.

“What is _that?_ ” Lexa asked, looking at Clarke’s much more inviting slice.  
“It’s buffalo mozzarella, cherry tomatoes, spicy salami, olives and green pesto. My favourite,” she said with a beaming smile.  
“Why are you getting one of those when I have to get through all of this?!”  
“Because I wanted to see the look on you face when you saw it, and because I wanted to see if you would really eat it just because you thought I wanted you to,” Clarke said, still grinning.

Lexa just scowled back, not dignifying that with an answer. Putting the slice back in its box and pushing it aside Clarke crawled over and wrapped her arms around Lexa’s neck.

“Jokes aside, but now I know that you really _would_ do anything for me,” she said, kissing her gently before pulling back and continuing.  
“And don’t worry, babe. You can have mine instead.”

Lexa reached up and cupped her cheek. There it was, that word again. This was probably going to be as good of a time as any.

“I want you to stay here,” she said, voice barely above a whisper but certainty in her eyes.

Clarke looked genuinely confused as her face morphed from a frown to slightly wide-eyed.

“I want you to stay here so that we can figure this out together. You still don’t have to tell me everything, but it would make things easier and it would keep you safer. I’m not asking you to move in with me forever or anything like that, just until things have settled,” she continued.

“But what about the contract?” Clarke asked, eyes burning bright.

“I looked it over, it’s doable. It’s not ideal, but I’m not breaking any rules, at least not explicitly.”  
“What if I tell you everything when I wake up screaming in the middle of the night, would it still be doable?”  
“Yes.”

The contract didn’t say anything about her obligations regarding information to Marcus, unless it threatened to directly harm the _campaign._ There was nothing in there about it potentially harming a family member. If she was being picky, she reckoned that whatever Clarke was keeping from her might possibly have an impact on said campaign. But she technically didn’t know what it was (yet), and if so, she would cross that bridge when they came to it.

Clarke took a deep breath and looked down before gazing all the way down into Lexa’s soul.

“Then yes. Yes, I’ll stay here with you for as long as you want me to,” Clarke breathed out before kissing her hard.

Lexa kissed back, relieved and grateful and everything in between. She even allowed Clarke to push her back on her elbows before once again pushing them apart. This time Clarke groaned, loudly and pointedly, in protest.

“ _Really?_ You ask me to _move in_ with you, but sex is still too much?!”  
“I’m serious, Clarke! The only thing you’re eating tonight is that disgusting-looking pizza.”

xxx

She was still getting used to coming home to someone. It had been five days since Clarke had ‘moved in’ and they were starting to fall into a rhythm, but it still felt weird. Lexa was home early (read: 6PM) for a change and looked forward to some down-time in the serenity of her own home. That dream was quickly shattered though, as she came into an apartment that was the very vision of chaos. Clothes were heaped up on the floor, from what she could see of the kitchen there was dishes all over the counter and books were scattered on various places across the room. Pinching the bridge of her nose she took a few deep breaths.

“Clarke! Why does it look like there’s been a wrestling match in here?” she called out.

It was only when the words exited her mouth that the thought entered her brain. What if there had been a wrestling match? What if someone had gotten into the apartment and…

“Oh, hey babe! You’re home early,” Clarke said, coming out of the bedroom and leaning in to give her a quick kiss just as Lexa was stomping across the apartment, prepared for the worst.

Sighing loudly, she felt the worry dissolve from focused into the more quiet, lingering kind she had whenever Clarke was out of her sight nowadays.

“This place looks even worse than I feel. You’re a living mess, Clarke Griffin,” she scowled, adrenalin turning into mild bityness.  
“I am, but I’m your mess,” the blonde smiled back and leaned in for another kiss as Lexa rolled her eyes.

“The mess is only temporary, though. I was just packing up for my shift, and the packing just happened to spread a bit. But it’s all getting shoved into this now,” she continued on triumphantly, holding up one of her tote bags.

Lexa just chuckled and made a semi-committal sound before walking back to the entrance to hang off her coat and handbag. Unpacking her computer and a few files she put them away on the coffee table before walking into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water.

“When does you shift start?” she asked, trying to make some small talk as the blonde whirled around in the most unorganized fashion Lexa had ever seen.

It was quite fascinating to watch, actually.

“At 8PM, but I wanna be in by seven. My mom is also working the night shift, so I was thinking that maybe I could check in on her back home after I get off tomorrow?” Clarke said over her shoulder as she shoved a t-shirt into her bag.  
“Sure, that sounds like a plan. And I’m not keeping you hostage, Clarke, you don’t have to ask for permission to meet your family,” Lexa said over the rim of her glass.

Clarke dropped her bag and walked over to where Lexa was standing, placing on hand on her waist.

“I know that. I just wanted to give you a heads up, the way that people who are living together do,” she said softly.

Lexa just smiled back at that beautiful face and tucked a strand of blonde hair away.

“Okay, well in that case: thank you. Does this mean that I should start giving you heads ups as well?” she mused, smilingly wrapping herself around the blonde’s neck.  
“Lexa Woods, sending me texts on her whereabouts. Sounds oddly and cozily domestic, I’m in,” Clarke laughed.

Lexa just wiggled her eyebrows and kissed her girl ( _her_ girl?) before stalking off toward the bedroom.

“I’m going to get changed and then I’m going to work out for a bit, see you tomorrow evening?” she said over her shoulder, looking expectantly at the blonde.  
“Can’t wait. Mind the shoulder!” Clarke smiled back.

xxx

Clarke fought to keep her eyes open in the car on her way home. Or was it from home? She was _living_ with Lexa, and that was fucking mental. Raven had practically screamed when she heard about it, and Clarke herself had been internally screaming ever since Lexa had asked her. Lexa had _been the one to ask_. Clarke had thought that she was having a heart attack when it happened, and only barely managed to remember not only one but two questions of high importance before practically throwing herself over the brunette.

It was great. The mornings were great, the evenings were great, and she had been a bit sad to go on her first night shift yesterday because she thought that Lexa wouldn’t make it home before she had to leave. But she had, and the apartment had been a mess and Lexa had been slightly bummed, but Clarke hadn’t been able to keep herself from showering her with kisses anyway. Because she was living with Lexa, and she loved Lexa. She was fairly certain of that by now, but she wasn’t about to say anything until she was sure that Lexa would be comfortable with it. She was happy anyways, because she was _living with Lexa_.

So, after a bit of thought she decided that she was indeed on her way home and not the other way around. The backseat of the black sedan was even more comfortable after almost 24 hours without sleep and she considered allowing herself to doze off for the ten minutes it would take them to reach the apartment.

She had been home to see her mother, who undoubtedly knew that Clarke was seeing someone but was graceful enough not to ask too many questions. She had also managed to fill another suitcase up with items from her closet along with some textbooks and hygiene stuff. Lexa was being really generous about letting her use whatever of hers that she wanted, but it was nice to have things of her own. The fact that Lexa was a skinnier-than-Clarke businesswoman who dressed almost exclusively in dark colors was also a contributing factor.

When Steve dropped her off outside their building, she was too tired to do anything but keep herself from stumbling as she got out of the car. He helped her to haul the suitcase from the trunk and, politely as always, bid her a good day before driving off. She waved and pulled out the handle, dragging it toward the doors.

If she had been a little more alert, if she had slept for just an hour that night, if she had taken Lexa’s advice and been just a little bit aware of her surroundings, she would have seen him. But she wasn’t, she hadn’t, and she didn’t. So, when she heard his voice from behind her, she was as horrifyingly surprised as she had been the last time it happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per usual, you're all good eggs. Marvelously good, actually.
> 
> On another note, I upped the chapter count to 20 (this is getting crazy out of hand lol). I'm still not sure I'll be able to tie it all together the way I want it to though, so I might have to start considering a sequel/part 2. What do you guys think, would you be in for another ride?
> 
> Stay safe. xx


	15. Call me that again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, there was a cliffhanger and I'm really not sorry about that. They're great (at least when you're on this side of the screen).
> 
> Here's the next one!

“Hello there, princess!”

She glanced down at her watch, it read just past 3PM. Lexa, who had stayed true to her word and given Clarke a ‘heads up’, wouldn’t be home for several hours. She was blindsided.

“What are you doing here?” she said without turning around, trying to steel her voice the way Lexa always did even though her heart was racing.

His chuckled made her now adrenaline-fueled brain freeze over.

“I just came to ask you out for a drink, I feel like we have things to talk about. Don’t you?”

This time, she _did_ turn around. He was standing there, looking the exact same way he had when she had left him all that time ago. The floppy hair, the smug expression that was so easily mistaken for kindness, his eyes.

“There are few things I’d like less, and I think you know that.”

“Is this where you’re staying now? With that beautiful brunette from the hospital?” he continued, happily ignoring her attempts to rebuff him.  
“That’s _none_ of your business, Finn,” she growled.

That was the first time she had said his name in almost a year.

“She’s quite a friend, letting you stay just so that she can keep an eye on you. Everyone I’ve talked with says that’s she’s quite extraordinary, certainly one of the most interesting persons in this hellhole,” he laughed heartily.

Clarke felt like she was going to throw up. He knew who she was.

“What was her name again? Lexa Woods, right? 29 years old, decorated sergeant in the marine corps, owner and director at _Forrester & Woods…_”  
“Shut _up_ ,” she said through gritted teeth.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, daring her to order him around again.

All the warmth was gone from his voice. That didn’t really scare her though, she had known it to be fake from the start.

“Stop. I’ll have a drink with you. Just let me go up and drop off my suitcase and then we can go,” she said, loud and clear.

But if anyone else had walked past on the pavement and taken their time to look at the beautiful blonde standing in the cold winter air, they would have seen the sparkle in those blue eyes die out.

She didn’t wait for an answer, she knew what he would say anyway. She knew him well, better than most. Better than she knew Lexa, she realized with a pang as she rode the elevator up to the apartment. She briefly reminisced about how she had been so happy about this place just a few minutes ago. Some things really could change fast.

She left the suitcase in the bedroom and dropped her handbag where she always did. She knew that she could’ve left a note or a sign, anything really, to signal that she was in trouble. It would’ve been enough just to have dropped the bag in the wrong place, she _was_ living with Lexa after all. But she didn’t, because she knew him well. She knew that would only make it worse.

In the elevator back down she thought about the brunette. She was going to come home, tired and a bit antsy as always, and she would look for her. She would pretend that she was ‘just fine’, but she would be secretly craving a hug, a kiss, comfort. Clarke would have given it to her, teased her about something or made an extra bit of mess whilst cooking, just to provoke. They would bicker back and forth, then Clarke would have kissed her until Lexa picked her up and carried her of somewhere. The very epitome of perfection, with emphasis on the _woulds._

Because today, Lexa would come home to an empty apartment. It would take less than a minute for her to get worried, given the circumstances. She would send her a text, then another, and finally she would call. She would start to pace, running her hands through her hair and tapping her fingers in that incessant rhythm as she tried to figure out her next step. Clarke had no clue what that step would be, but she prayed that it wouldn’t involve things such as the police and/or her parents.

When she made it back onto the street he was waiting by a grey SUV. It looked just like a car that he would drive. Too big, too loud, too much, but fitting for someone who thought themselves entitled to the very ground they walked on. He smiled at her, she didn’t smile back, he didn’t care. He opened the door for her and touched her shoulder as she got in, she didn’t flinch even if she wanted to. Then he closed the door behind her, walked around the front, got into his seat and locked the doors.

The bar that he drove to was shabby. It was a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, and exactly the kind of place where no one would recognize her. It wasn’t a coincidence, it was all carefully planned and meticulously carried out. He wasn’t stupid, not by any means, and that was an awful shame. If he had been stupid she could’ve outsmarted him a long time ago, but she'd been young and dumb, desperate to believe that she would be the one to fix him.

Finn came from a fancy family, but his dad had been a drunk, his mother was dead and he had spent his childhood bouncing between relatives. And so, she had explained his increasingly erratic behavior with words such as ‘he doesn’t know any better’, or ‘he’s carrying a lot of trauma’. The ‘never underestimate your enemy’-mentality was currently laughing her in the face.

He opened the car door for her and she stepped out on the paved carpark. He walked to the front doors, she followed. She considered trying to sneak away a message to Lexa but scratched that plan as soon as it entered her head. He had allowed her to keep her phone so far, and she didn’t want to risk losing that privilege until she was somewhere safe. She was actually surprised he hadn’t taken it from her yet, he used to keep it on him almost constantly for the first few months. Until he was sure that she would never betray him. Maybe that was what this was? Maybe he was still so sure that he had her under his boot that he didn’t even bother?

_Fuck him,_ she thought quietly.

The bar was murky and dark. It looked like a place where you would order a whiskey, straight - not on the rocks – and get into a fight with your brother-in-law who also happened to be your cousin.

“Have a seat, princess,” he said, motioning to a corner booth.

She did as she was told, placing her hands on the sticky surface of the table with an internal cringe.

“I’ll go order,” he said, taking off toward the bar.

Clarke looked after him, hands fidgeting with each other. She should probably make a run for it. Sneak out of the door whilst he looked away and run until she found a cab. But what would happen if she did? What would he do? She would have to quit her job, stay inside the apartment with locked doors. Or maybe move to yet another town, _move away from Lexa._

No, her best bet was to stay put. Try to decipher what it was he wanted from her and work her way out from there. Her head felt heavy, her brain like thick gravy. Like there was a blanket draped over her ability to think rationally. _Don’t panic, he can’t do anything to you that you haven’t been through before._

He returned with two bourbons, his favourite. Clarke hated it and he knew that, but that was probably the whole point. Sitting down across from her he took a deep swig before motioning for her to do the same.

“Go ahead now, don’t be shy,” she smiled slyly.

Clarke took a sip and managed not to grimace. She wasn’t falling that easily.

“Have you texted her yet?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.  
“Texted who?” she feigned confusion.  
“Clarke, let’s not make ourselves stupider than we already are.”

Clarke just tried her best to level him with a glare. He just snorted and rolled his eyes dramatically.

“ _Fine,_ be like that. Just give it to me instead,” he sighed, holding out his hand.  
“How about no? You wanted to talk, then let’s cut the crap and _talk_ ,” she growled defiantly.

Instantly she felt the pressure of his shoe on the top of her foot. At first, she didn’t budge, but the longer she held her ground the harder he pressed until she finally dug into her pocket and handed him her phone.

“Thank you, Clarke,” he smiled sweetly as he took the device.

Clarke felt her insides churn up as he searched through her private life, dreading the one thing that she was pretty sure he would find. It didn’t take long until he made a surprised face, before snorting dismissively. He typed in something and sent it before handing back the phone to the blonde.

“I thought you gave in a little _too_ easy for someone as bull-headed as yourself. She’s not your friend, she’s your _girl_ friend. And you’re only here because you’re afraid of what will happen to _her_ if you refused me, right? Well, this all changes things! For the better too, I dare say. Well, at least for me, that is..." he chuckled to himself, gesturing vaguely with his free hand.

"Our conversation won’t be nearly as long as I had planned it to be. I’ve texted her the address, if she’s anywhere as good as they make her out to be, she’ll be here soon,” he continued as plainly as if he was addressing the weather.

Clarke grew more confused by the minute. Even though much was the way it had always been, there were aspects of him that had undoubtedly changed. She had a hard time pinning down his intentions. If he’d only wanted to get back at her for dumping him, he would’ve driven her out into the woods and beat her up. If he’d wanted to get her back, he would’ve tried to woo or threaten her into compliance.

She couldn’t come up with a single scenario that involved taking her to a bar, buying her a bourbon and then calling her girlfriend to pick her up with no more than a potential bruise on her foot to show for it. And somehow, the new terror of not knowing what was next was worse than the old one.

“What do you want, Finn?” she asked, trying to hide the desperation that was rising within her.

“Plenty of things. Not you though, if that’s what you are scared about. I despise you, Clarke Griffin, with every fibre of my being. I might take you back one day, when all this is over and done with, but only to make your life as miserable as possible. But right now you’re safe, from me at least. You see, I’m not your problem here, I'm just... what is the word for it? Right, _the messenger_ ,” he said, still infuriatingly professional as he took another sip.

“What does that even mean!?” she asked frustratedly.

He threw his head back and laughed, causing her to almost jump over the table and throttle him.

“Jesus Christ, princess. Use your head!” he said, smiling condescendingly once he had gathered himself.  
“You don’t stand a chance against her,” she growled.

“Good thing I’ve got no plans to face her, then. You’re still not thinking big enough, Griffin. This isn’t about you nor me, not even about your precious sergeant. We’re just convenient pawns in someone else’s game. But I would be lying if I said that I didn’t look forward to a chance to screw you over,” he confessed, taking another sip.

“You’re not making any sense, Finn. Stop rambling like a madman and tell me what you want,” she exclaimed.

He just snorted again, smilingly looking out of the window and pretending that she wasn’t there. An old favorite of his. She wanted to wipe that grin off his face, but she knew better.

“Is it money? I’ll give you money, just tell me how much,” she pushed on.

He just laughed again, _fucking hilarious._

“I don’t need your money, princess. I’m getting paid enough as it is,” he said, downing the last of his bourbon.

He went straight on to down hers as well, knowing full well that she wasn’t going to finish it. The he got to his feet and put on his coat. Stopping next to her on his way out, he grabbed hold of her forearm and looked her dead in the eye with that disgusting grin. She bit down on her cheek as the grip tightened like a vice, sending flashes of dull pain up her arm. This was going to leave a mark.

“It’s time for me to go. But believe me when I say that I look forward to meeting you again, even though it might be a while. Give Lexa my regards.”

The bell above the door chimed emptily as he strode through it, leaving Clarke in the greasy booth with a swimming head and throbbing, red marks on her skin, sure to turn blue by the morning. Lexa was coming for her, and that was the only thing grounding her as she leaned her elbows on the table, buried her head in her hands and tried her hardest not to cry.

She had no idea how long she had been sitting there, it could have been five seconds or five minutes, when the bell chimed again. She heard the familiar clicking of heels on wooden floorboards and lifted her head up to reveal a barely-held-together Lexa standing by the booth, cheeks tinted and hair slightly dishevelled, but other than that it was only her eyes that gave away the terror inside.

“Thank god you’re okay…”

Clarke didn’t allow her to finish her sentence before she threw herself into her arms. She buried her head in the crook of the brunette’s neck as warm, big tears rolled down her check and stained the expensive material of Lexa’s clothes. She slid her hands in between the coat and her body and grabbed the fabric of Lexa’s sweater. She felt her body trembling with every breath, and for what seemed like an eternity it was all about inhaling, exhaling and regaining control. Lexa allowed her to take her time, at first standing completely still but then rubbing small circles on her back.

“Let’s go home, okay?” she whispered into Clarke’s ear.

Clarke just nodded and allowed herself to be led out to the car waiting for them at the parking lot. Lexa wasted no time as she got into the car and started driving. The city passed in a blur, and Clarke briefly wondered how many times this would have to happen. How many times would Lexa have to drop everything to come and rescue her? It was sure becoming a regular theme.

They didn’t speak a word in the car, or as they were walking through the garage, nor in the elevator. For once it was Clarke who was being the quiet one, but unlike when the roles were reversed, Lexa didn’t push. When they entered the apartment she took of her coat and hung away her handbag before turning to Clarke, carefully removing her jacket and her beanie before grabbing her gently by the shoulders.

“Tell me what you need,” the brunette asked, piercing Clarke’s soul with those green eyes.

Clarke wanted to laugh. It was a fair question, a good one even, but it was also completely absurd. She felt raw, violated, jagged. She had no idea what she needed, except for it all to go away. Lexa couldn’t give her that. So instead she settled for the one thing Lexa _could_ give her.

“You.”

She could see the conflict in the brunette’s eyes. How she fought between saying no out of principles and morale, and yes because she wanted to help, to heal.

“ _Please,_ just let me have you. Just this once,” she begged.

It was a low mark, she knew that, potentially pushing Lexa to do something she clearly wasn’t entirely comfortable with. But she felt like she was crawling out of her own skin, and she desperately needed something to hold her together.

Lexa crumbled, just like Clarke knew that she would. She decided that she could feel guilty about that tomorrow, along with everything else. Instead she watched Lexa nod, and closed her eyes as they closed the distance.

The kiss wasn’t careful or forgiving. It was hard and fervent, desperate and needy. It was raw and rough around the edges. It was everything that Clarke felt inside. If Lexa felt like it was moving too fast, she didn’t show. Instead she grabbed the hem of Clarke’s t-shirt and pulled them further down the hallway. Clarke turned them around and pushed Lexa up against the wall, regaining control. Pinning the brunette’s arms over her head and pressing her knee in the space between her legs. They clashed together once more. Breathed heavily as they kissed harder, deeper. Eyes rolling back as they let their hands roam over the other’s body.

Clarke pushed her thigh harder against Lexa’s core as she dragged her mouth over perfect cheekbones and a sharp jawline. She languidly nibbled her way down the exposed skin of Lexa’s neck, stopping to suck at her throbbing pulse point. It was one of the brunette’s weak spots, and she immediately felt friction against her leg.

She was hardly ever allowed to be in control like this. It was always Lexa who was on top, always Lexa who got in the final word and the final kiss. And now here she was, the gorgeous albeit control-freaky brunette, completely melting under Clarke’s touch. Maybe she was actually doing something right, or maybe Lexa was just being nice today. She didn’t care, she was going to savour it anyway.

Dropping the other woman’s arms, she draped them around her own neck instead and took a small step back. Waiting until she caught sight of those green eyes, she started to get down onto her knees. Once again, there was a battle clear as day going on inside Lexa’s head. Clarke would be the first to tell you about the extreme issues she had with receiving. And so, once she had gotten down properly, she once again locked eyes with the brunette and nodded quietly, reassuringly.

Keeping eye contact as she reached up to undo the fly of the black slacks, slid them down slender legs and kissed the lacy fabric that lay between her and what she wanted. Smiling as Lexa’s eyes once again fell shut and her head dropped back against the wall. Hooking her fingers in the waistband of Lexa’s underwear, dragging out on the process (because god knew when she would get to do this again) and revelling in the feeling of triumph as Lexa’s hand tousled in her hair, urging her to hurry.

Guiding one leg to drape over her back in order to gain better access, she placed feathery kisses along the inside of a muscular thigh, teasing and building for an experience she could only hope she would be able to hold on through. But Lexa’s urgings grew more stubborn, and Clarke decided that she was done waiting. When she finally slid her tongue between slick folds she felt a shiver pass through the brunette’s body. Hungrily she began to explore her way into a steady rhythm, sucking and stroking the way she hoped the brunette would like it.

Based on the restrained (but addictive) sounds that escaped Lexa’s throat, she was at least doing _something_ right. So, naturally, she added more. Holding on to the thigh resting on her shoulder with one hand, she allowed the other one to join her mouth, thrusting two fingers inside. Lexa gasped, throwing her head back against the wall with a thud as her hips instinctively started rocking against Clarke’s face. She started slowly and gradually increased the tempo until she felt her arm burning with acid. Ignoring the pain, and knowing that the brunette was close now, she kept on going until they reached the top.

What came out of Lexa’s mouth was a whispered version of Clarke’s name, but it could just as well have been shouted from the rooftops. She slowed her rhythm and eased Lexa down slowly before unlatching herself and carelessly wiping her face on the back of her hand. She managed to get back onto her feet without neither wobbling too much nor letting go of Lexa, who uncharacteristically seemed to be in need of some support. She leaned in to kiss the brunette’s forehead and smiled slyly as green eyes opened to meet hers.

“Now, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” she whispered.

Lexa just shook her head with a chuckle and pulled one of her hands to her lips, carefully kissing her knuckles.

“You’re certainly effective, given we’ve made it only halfway into the apartment _and_ the fact that you’re still fully clothed.”

Clarke just laughed and wiggled her eyebrows, lovingly kissing Lexa’s forehead again.

“Just admit that you’re impressed,” she said triumphantly.  
“Very. Now, you’ve got some explaining to do whether you like it or not, but since your face is covered in _me_ I suggest we take a shower first. Deal?”  
“Deal, as long as I get to decide the temperature this time.”

They argued about whether Lexa was thick-skinned or if Clarke was just sensitive all the way into the bathroom, finally agreeing to disagree. They started to undress, Lexa inevitably finishing first since she was only wearing half her outfit to begin with. The whole shower-ordeal was rather uneventful except for a few stolen kisses. Clarke had gotten the worst of her pent-up anxiety out of her system and now she was back to the new but persistent mix of tired, terrified and slightly nauseous.

Lexa, who wasn’t very big on shower sex to begin with, wasn’t complaining and stuck to her quick and efficient routine. It only took them about ten minutes before they were out again. Clarke was feeling drained, like she could sleep for decades, and ended up just standing outside the shower and depending on Lexa to dry her off. The brunette did so without any fuzz until she got to her left arm.

“Where did you get these?” she asked flatly.

Clarke’s first (ridiculous) impulse was to say that she had bumped into something, but that would’ve been a sheer mockery to Lexa’s trust. Instead she was planning on telling her what had happened, that he had grabbed her a little too hard on his way out. That it hurt but not that much, and that it was fine. But the words refused to leave her, and so she ended up with nothing but a weird grimace and a futile attempt to escape Lexa’s scrutiny.

“They’re hand-shaped, Clarke,” Lexa stated, not settling for silence.  
“That’s probably because they’re from a hand,” she said quietly, still avoiding eye contact.

Lexa bit her lip for a moment, dragging her hand through wet hair, before leading Clarke out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. She shuffled through her closet for a set of clothes before getting dressed and heading out into the apartment.

“Get dressed, or don’t, whatever you want. I’m going to get my computer and then you’re telling me everything. The glass is officially full, Clarke.”

Clarke had the decency not to argue. She got it, she couldn’t just demand to be rescued (twice) without coming clean. Or maybe she could, because Lexa would probably do it again, but it was neither very appreciative nor helpful. If she wanted to avoid getting into these situations to begin with, she was going to need the brunette’s help regardless.

As Lexa was out in the hallway looking for her computer, Clarke only had the energy to put on underwear and a t-shirt. She could’ve found better clothing in her suitcase that still stood unopened by the bedroom door, but Lexa’s discarded rags would do for now. She tied her short hair up in a bun and sat down on the bed, waiting for her judgement to come. She wasn’t scared that Lexa was going to walk out on her anymore, at least not in the way she had been before, but it still felt wrong to speak about this out loud.

Lexa came back into the bedroom, placed her laptop and a bunch of papers on the dresser and leaned back against the doorframe. She shrivelled a pen in her fingers for a couple of seconds, lost in thought as she looked over the city skyline through the window.

“Are you going to sit down?” Clarke asked when the silence became too long.  
“I’d rather not, I handle things better on my feet.”

“What’s his name?” she asked, still looking out of the window.  
“Finn Collins.”  
“Where’s he from?”  
“Connecticut. Hartford, I think.”  
“How old is he?”  
“One year older than me, so 25.”  
“What does he do?”  
“I don’t know. He was still a business major when I left him.”  
“And when was that?”

This was the first time during this game of rapid-fire that Lexa looked at her. Clarke levelled her gaze with the brunette’s. Even if they were on the same side, she still felt like she was scrutinized and had to defend her honour. But who was she kidding, she had none left.

“End of May, a year ago. So no, you’re not my rebound if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said, intending for it to be a joke but falling short and ending up with it sounding plain sarcastic instead.

Lexa just raised an eyebrow the way she usually did when she wasn’t impressed, but she didn’t comment further on the matter.

“Why did you break up with him?” she asked instead, still watching her.  
“Because I realized I deserved better.”  
“Why?”  
“Because he was toxic.”  
“Define toxic,” Lexa pressed on.  
“Another word for poisonous, which is a substance that can make the consumer ill or potentially kill her. Jesus Christ, Lexa! Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

She raised her voice at the end, throwing her hands out at the infuriating brunette standing by the door. Lexa seemed momentarily phased, but her face quickly morphed back into one of unreadably passivity. That only pissed Clarke of more. Was she really so emotionally stunted that she didn’t get how hard this was to talk about?

“Did he give you that bruise today?” was the only reply she got.  
“Yes,” Clarke pushed out through gritted teeth.  
“Has he hurt you before, physically that is?”  
“Yes,” she answered, repressing the urge to storm out.  
“How long had it been going on when you broke up with him?”  
“I don’t know. A year, maybe?”  
“The relationship or the abuse?”  
“The abuse.”

The muscles in Lexa’s jaw flexed once. Then twice.

“You mentioned that he had a habit of hanging out in hospital entrance halls. Would you describe him as a stalker?”  
“Given the fact that he showed up right outside our door today and knew who I was living here with, _including_ a substantial amount of information about _you_ : yes I would. He is a deranged, creepy ass prowler who I was supposed to never meet again. Now, are we done here? I need some air,” she said bluntly before storming past Lexa and heading toward the balcony.

The chilly air hit her like a cold but welcome caress. She leaned against the railing, looking down on the quiet street. It was long dark by now, and millions of lights twinkled in the distance. The city spread out like a dark, pulsating mass for as long as she could see. Somewhere, in the middle of all this, was he.

Maybe he was thinking about her, maybe he was talking about her, telling someone about what he had discovered today. Maybe they were plotting to kill her. Maybe she didn’t really care.

She didn’t jump when a pair of slender arms wrapped around her waist, she was very much expecting it. She leaned back into the warm body, not bothering to hold a grudge. That wasn’t the way they worked. They bickered and stormed out on each other, but it would never last long.

They had _a lot_ to work on when it came to communication, but they had also only known each other for less than six months. They weren’t expected to be seamless, especially not under the rather unusual circumstances. So, Clarke didn’t bother to stay mad. Because no matter how it felt in the moment, _this_ was worth so much more.

“I kind of hope he comes to find me,” Lexa mumbled, head resting on her shoulder.  
“I know you do. I do too,” she mumbled back.  
“I would fucking end him.”  
“I know you would.”

“Do you want to know how?”

She could barely hear the soft question whispered against her neck over the cold breeze and the thumping of her own heartbeat.

“What?”  
“Would you like to know how?” Lexa asked again, voice clearer this time as her hands slid over Clarke’s arms to rest on her wrists.

Clarke didn’t respond, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have to, though, because she felt slender fingers interlace with her own and ball their hands into fists.

“Always aim for a weak spot. His face, his throat, between his legs. Don’t go for the chest, it’s inviting but generally ineffective.”

Soft lips pressed against the nape of her neck as one hand made its way onto her hips.

“Make sure that you’ve got your ground. Keep your feet apart and legs firm. He’s bigger than you, you’re going to need a solid stance to stand a chance.”

The hand pressed into her thigh, urging her to straighten up and dig her bare feet into the concrete floor. Then it snaked its way onto the wrist of the arm that was firmly held in place by Lexa’s other hand, straightening it out and pressing against her pulse point.

“Flex your wrist. If you don’t, you’re just going to end up spraining it and hurting yourself more than you hurt him.”

She could still feel Lexa’s lips against her skin, and it made her skin prickle. But her voice wasn’t soft or husky, it was as firm as her hands, guiding her gently but assertively. Lexa was serious, and Clarke did as she was told.

“Jab with the heel of your palm. Go for the nose or the throat. Make sure to recoil. Don’t hesitate, whatever you do.”

Lexa released her grip on Clarke’s hand and placed her own on top, once again locking their fingers together before guiding Clarke’s arm into a surging motion forward. She could feel the power in the other woman’s body, humming through her veins and radiating into Clarke’s own.

To Clarke, she was mostly an object of devotion, something to love and caress and hold tight. But this, this was what Lexa was trained to do. What she was made for.

“If he gets too close, bend you elbow, strengthen your core…”

An arm slid around her waist and settled on her abdomen, fingers digging into soft flesh and causing Clarke’s abs to tense up.

“… and stick that elbow straight to his fucking jaw.”

Once again, soft lips pressed against her skin, but this time at the very spot Lexa was referring to. It was odd, imagining slamming her body parts into someone else at the same time as those lips made her want to do the complete opposite. But the fingers that pressed into her stomach reminded her that Lexa was right, and that it wasn’t at all impossible that she would have to remember this sooner rather than later.

“Thanks,” she whispered into the dark night sky, confident that the brunette could hear her anyway.

“By the way, what’s up with all the curse words lately?” Clarke asked with a laugh.  
“If I’m not allowed to curse when I’m speaking about my girlfriend’s nuthead ex, then I don’t know when,” Lexa deadpanned and released Clarke’s hand, removing her grip on her waist and left her arms hanging by her sides.

Clarke on the other hand had stopped listening at the G-word. Slowly she turned around to face a Lexa who apparently was realizing her mistake just now.

“It’s negative degrees outside and you’re not wearing pants. Come on, let’s get you wrapped up in a blanket,” she said, hurriedly walking off the balcony and into the apartment.

Clarke only caught up to her when the brunette was halfway to the couch. Hurriedly she reached out to grab her by the arm and pull her to a halt. Lexa didn’t turn around to face her, instead she sighed and dipped her head resignedly.

“Look, I’m sorry. It just slipped out, and I shouldn’t have. I totally get it if you don’t want to be in a relationship ever again after what you’ve been through, and I’ll stick around no…”

For possibly the first time in the history of Lexa, she was rambling. And it would have been adorable if it hadn’t been completely, off the rails, up the walls _wrong_.

“Say it again,” Clarke cut her off.

Lexa turned to look at the blonde over her shoulder with a frown.

“Say what?” she asked.  
“ _Say it again._ I want to hear you call me that again. And again. And I never want you to stop,” she clarified, almost whispering at the end.

Defensiveness turned into confusion and then into something that could be only be described as happiness. She walked up to Clarke, once again wrapping her arms around her waist but this time looking deep into her eyes before her lips curled upwards in a playful smirk.

“So, just so we’re clear: you want me to call you my girlfriend?” she asked slyly, leaning in so close that their lips touched.  
“ _Yes_ ,” Clarke breathed.

Lexa captured her lips in a short but tender kiss before letting go and walking over to the sofa. She sat down, grabbed the nearest blanket and patted on the spot next to her.

“I’ll think about it, but only because you insist. Now come here and put on one of those vile movies so that I can pretend to watch it, get some work done and listen to you spoil the whole thing after five minutes.”

Clarke held her hand over her heart in a wounded manner before smiling brightly at the brunette. Once again, she wouldn’t get mad, because she loved her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of the story was taken from this chapter, extra good egg-points if you find it haha.
> 
> I've started plotting out a sequel. I don't want to rush the whole Finn-storyline, neither do I want to rush the Clexa one, and this way I won't have to. I really think that it's going to be rad, but you might have to live with the suspense and a few open threads for a while longer (once again: sorry not sorry).
> 
> Thanks for the feedback on the last chapter, you're the real deal. Stay safe! xx


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